Letting Go
by DaynaWayna
Summary: STORY COMPLETE. I hope you all enjoy the final chapter of this incredible story. Thank you for sticking with me for THREE YEARS and slow postings. I think you will find it well worth the wait. Phineas takes Jeff on 'one last voyage' before the teen enters Voyager Academy, and things are anything but simple as they meet an old foe and face challenges that test them to the limit.
1. Celebrations

_Author's Notes_

This story was given to me as a Challenge by Spencerthekat to see if I could write a story that was more in keeping with the show than my usual work. I hope that it meets with her expectations. :)

_**LETTING GO**_

Chapter 1

_**November 24**__**th**__**, 1962 Perth, Australia**_

_**British Empire and Commonwealth Games**_

"I'm sorry you didn't get a medal, sir."

"Young man," the body builder said in his drawling British accent, "for the last time, I am not old enough for _you_ to call me 'sir.' Please, call me David."

The seventeen year old grinned sheepishly and nodded. "Okay, David it is. I just can't believe you lifted four hundred forty pounds and Brandon Bailey lifted four hundred forty and a half pounds!" He shook his head sadly. "Half a pound between you and a Bronze medal."

David put his arm around Jeff, looking down on him and his uncle. "There's always next year. Anyways, Bailey may be the third strongest man in these games, and the strongest man in Trinidad and Tobago, but _**I **_still hold the record for strongest man in the British Empire outside of these games!" He struck a classic body-builder's pose and growled deep in his throat. At an imposing 6'7", 265lbs, he cut a rather frightening figure among the spectators milling around the arena.

Phineas chuckled and put his hand out for a handshake. "Well, best of luck to you, my friend."

He instantly regretted the move as his hand was crushed in the larger man's grip. Jeff laughed but was silenced by a glare from his partner. They helped David pack up his things and walked him to the bus that would take him back to his hotel.

"Are you sure you two can't stay? I'd love to show you some workouts to bulk you both up. Young Jeff here could certainly benefit from it." He winked at Jeff as he nudged Phineas. "Before you know it, he'll be giving you a run for your money in the romance department…"

Phineas shook his head and grinned. "That's alright, Mr. Prowse…" he caught a stern but playful glare from the bodybuilder. "I, uh, I mean, _David_. Look, I might be three years older than you, but you could hospitalize me with a swat of your pinkie finger! I give respect where respect is due, and quite frankly, _Mr. Prowse_, you deserve it."

The Englishman roared with laughter and agreed. "Very well, _Mr. _Bogg. But now, I must take my leave. Thank you both once again for saving my as… er, _rear_," he covered his choice of words quickly as a group of school children passed by. "I don't know who mis-marked those barbells, but if you two hadn't been there to spot me on the bench press, I would have been crushed under five hundred pounds of dead weight."

"I don't know how much help I was," Jeff said as he looked at his arms with a frown. He was well muscled for a seventeen year old, but was always comparing himself to Bogg. "But I'm glad we were there to help."

They watched the tall, muscular man walk away and Jeff sighed, a satisfied smile on his face. Phineas looked at him with a confused expression and nudged him.

"And this is what you wanted for your seventeenth birthday because...?"

"Oh come _on _Bogg!" Jeff rolled his eyes and poked Phineas in the ribs. "What did I tell you before we came here?"

The older man gave an exasperated sigh and crossed his arms. "Star Wars is the greatest movie of all time, and you've always wanted to meet the man behind the mask of Dark Vader."

"_**Darth**_ Vader," Jeff corrected.

"Yeah, well, whatever his name is, David is scary enough without any extra help."

Jeff laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "It doesn't matter, Bogg. All that matters is that I've now met Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher, Harrison Ford, Sir Alec Guinness, Kenny Baker, Anthony Daniels, Peter Mayhew _and _David Prowse, and even set a few things straight in their history as well. _That_ is the best present I could ask for."

Phineas smiled at his young friend who was now only four inches shorter than him. Jeff had grown a lot in the past five years, and certainly looked older than seventeen, but it still amazed Bogg at how fast he had grown. But he vowed one thing would never change: Jeff's nickname.

"Well, kid, as long as you're happy I guess I don't have to understand it all. But I do have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"I still don't know why you called me 'Chewy' when I took my shirt off to work out with David the other day. Care to explain who this 'Chewy' is and why it's so funny?"

Jeff was nearly choking with laughter and got stared at by several passersby before he finally composed himself enough to answer.

"I already told you, Bogg. Chewie is a Wookie, a character in the _Star Wars _movies, and played by Peter Mayhew. And when you take off your shirt," he started to laugh again. "When you take off your shirt, you look just like a Wookie!"

Phineas frowned and put his hands on his hips. "I think you should be careful from now on. When I come to visit you at the Academy, I just might ask Olivia to pull a copy of _Star Wars_ out for me to watch. And I get the distinct feeling that when I find out what a 'Wookie' really looks like, your life just might come to an abrupt end."

"You'd have to catch me first," Jeff cried and took off running.

Phineas shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Some things never change," he muttered as he followed Jeff's retreating form at a leisurely pace. He finally caught up to his young friend and put him in a playful headlock.

"I have you now," he said in his deep baritone.

"Oh great," Jeff crowed. "Next you're gonna cut off my hand and then tell me you're my father."

Phineas released his hold and looked at Jeff, bewildered. "Cut off your hand? Wait… your _Father_?"

Jeff shook his head and sighed. It was hard to tease someone who didn't understand what you were referring to.

"Nevermind, Bogg. So, where to now? Remember, I get one more trip before I start at the Academy."

His partner shrugged and opened the omni, spinning the dials. "I'm feeling adventurous."

Jeff gasped in mock horror. "Oh no! Not… _Automatic mode?_"

"Hang on, kid. It could be a bumpy ride…"

-oOo-

_**October 14th, 1889, City of Taveta,**_

_**Tanzania, Africa**_

The dark haired man with the short cut mustache and close-cropped hair sighed dejectedly, staring into his mug. "Uhuru geschlagen hat uns wieder einmal, mein freund." (_Uhuru has beaten us once again, my friend_.)

His companion shook his head and looked at his friend with sympathy, twisting his much wider mustache into a curl. "Ach, Hans. Möglicherweise wurde es nicht bedeutet, um zu sein." (_Ah, Hans. Maybe it was not meant to be._)

Hans stood and pounded on the table in frustration. "Verdammen Sie es Ludwig! Sogar Sie geben auf unserem Traum auf. (_Damnit Ludwig_! _Even you have given up on our dream._)

Now Ludwig stood up to the challenge. "Ich gebe nicht auf, Hans. Ich bin realistisch!" _(I am not giving up, Hans. I am being realistic!)_

Several patrons and two newcomers who had just walked in glanced at the two men, then went back about their business.

A barmaid walked over and put a hand on each man's shoulder and said in Swahili, "Bwana Meyer, Bwana Purtscheller, tafadhali keti chini!" _(Mr. Meyer, Mr. Purtscheller, please sit down!)_

"Samahani, Bishara. Samahani,"_(I'm sorry, Bishara. I'm sorry) _Hans replied as he took his seat once more. He glared at Ludwig who was still standing and spoke again in German. "Werden Sie zu setzen?" _(Are you going to sit down?)_

Ludwig stared at his friend, grabbed his beer and downed the rest, slamming the mug on the table. Without a word, he turned around and stormed out of the inn.

Bashira shook her head and sighed. She knew how important reaching the summit of Uhuru had been to Herr Meyer and she felt sorry for him. But there was nothing she could do for him now, not with the inn so full and people waiting to be served.

She walked toward the two newcomers table and stared at the older man appreciatively, absent-mindedly playing with a few of the many braids that had fallen out of the red and gold scarf that tied her hair back.

Her breath was taken by the crystal blue eyes staring back at her, and her smile went beyond the confines of her mouth and sprung up to her wide set, mocha colored eyes. Bishara was known for "appreciating the foreigners," but this man was like no one she had ever seen. Even his younger companion was quite good looking, especially with his shoulder length curly hair and his expressive dark eyes, which were her weakness. He was probably closer to her own twenty years of age, but he didn't look quite as strong as his lighter-haired companion, whose blue eyes were so mesmerizing…

"And what I can get for you?" Bishara placed a hand on each man's shoulder and smiled flirtatiously at the younger one.

The older of the two smiled and leaned back in his chair with a nod of his head, indicating his young friend should answer. The teen looked up into the barmaid's broad face, trying to ignore the ample bosom that was staring back at him. She really was beautiful, and he loved how her ebony skin made stark contrast to the whiteness of her teeth, and made her eyes look incredibly bright. She turned her full attention on him and he became flustered, making her eyes sparkle impishly.

"Um, well… we'd ah, I mean do you…"

It wasn't that women made him nervous or uncomfortable, far from it. Jeff had actually _asked_ Phineas for some pointers in the 'romance department' as he'd gotten older after he realized that the young ladies found him as interesting as he found them. It was just that Phineas was a tough act to follow- and harder to compete with too- and the teen found himself wishing on more than one occasion that he had taken the Voyager Counsel's offer to enroll in the Academy on his sixteenth birthday to fill out his knowledge and further his education. It meant he would get to hang out with kids his own age, meet new friends and have a chance to meet girls and go on dates.

But it also meant that he would be left at VHQ while Phineas voyaged without him, a thought that sent a spasm of panic rushing through him.

No matter how many times he talked to a counselor or Phineas about it he simply could not shake his fear of losing Bogg. Jeff had matured a lot in the past five years and he knew where the fear came from, but it still drove him crazy that he was so irrational about it- especially now that he was seventeen and _should_ be able to cope with it.

With a lot of encouragement from Bogg, and promises to stop in two to three times a week, Jeff had finally decided that after this special birthday voyage he would at last enroll in the Academy. Though he didn't know it, the last time they'd gone to Headquarters Phineas had made sure Professor Mims' eighteen year old daughter Dalisa was there to show Jeff the new Science wing, giving Jeff another reason to want to stay.

But Dalisa with the furthest thought from his mind as he shifted in his seat, trying to avoid the bosom that was a bit closer to his face than he thought proper.

Phineas chuckled and leaned forward again, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

"What's your specialty here?" His deep voice made Bishara's smile wider as she turned her attention to him.

"Oh, many good foods. You like Ugali, yes? Is very good. You stay, I get, you eat."

The dark haired German at the next table spoke up. "Bishara will take good care of you. At least you won't go hungry."

She let her left hand brush across the older man's arm as she sashayed off to the kitchen, and his companion just shook his head.

"I still don't know how you do it, Bogg. You don't even _try_ to get their attention, and women fall all over you. And when one does pay attention to _me_, I get struck dumb. I give up."

Phineas grinned, a little self conscious of his companion's observation, but also noticed the smile in his eyes. It was good to share some adult banter now that Jeff was older, and Bogg enjoyed teasing him about the ladies. But the corollary was that he knew Jeff might start to get jealous of him someday, and he still wasn't quite ready for that.

"Well, I seem to remember a certain sixteen year old making eyes at you back at the Commonwealth Games, and she wanted _nothing _to do with me. And then of course there's Dalisa Mims back at VHQ…"

Jeff blushed and started defending himself, making Phineas laugh. A few minutes later Bishara reappeared holding two large bowls and a plate of flatbread. She gracefully set them down between the men and walked away, leaving them perplexed. One bowl held an oatmeal type paste while the other was a thick stew with beans and rice. There was no silverware on the table, just the flatbread.

"How are we supposed to eat this, Bogg? With our hands?"

"Yes, young man?"

Jeff turned to the dark haired man at the table behind them. "Excuse me, sir?"

"You called me, didn't you?" As Jeff tried to explain what he said, the German laughed loudly. "My apologies! I heard 'Hands' and thought you were speaking to me." He walked over to their table and extended his hand to Jeff. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Hans Meyer."

The name sounded familiar to Jeff, but he couldn't figure out why. "I'm Jeff. Jeffrey Jones. And this is my uncle, Phineas Bogg."

Hans raised an eyebrow. "A friend to Jules Verne, maybe?"

Phineas blushed slightly as he greeted Hans. "Um, yeah. Something like that."

Jeff couldn't resist the opportunity and said with a grin, "Yeah, Mr, Verne loved his name so much that he tweaked it and put my uncle in the book. He's famous without even trying."

"He 'tweaked' it? Is that an American way of saying he changed your uncle's name?"

"Yes, sir, it is," Phineas said with a smile as he kicked Jeff's shin under the table. "Now, if my _nephew_ would be so kind, we'll let you get back to your meal as we try to figure out how to eat ours."

"Nonsense, my good sir. You are obviously new to Tanzania and their foods, and I would be happy to show you how to enjoy your meal." Hans pointed to the stew with a smile. "Bishara has brought you one of my favorite dishes: Ugali, or Coconut bean soup. Yes, you _will_ need my help." He paused a moment as if to consider his next words, then smiled.

"Consider me your... Hans." Jeff nearly choked on the water he was drinking and the three men laughed at the pun.

A group of tribesmen who had been sitting near Hans watched their leader laugh and joke with the other two men, and this started an animated discussion which quickly spilled over to other tables. Within moments men were shouting back and forth trying to be heard until a shrill whistle split the air, and the room was silent once more.

Hans had been the one to whistle, and his men knew it meant trouble. He very nearly growled at the group in Swahili and then pointed to one of the men who had started the 'discussion'. Jeff and Phineas watched as the man stepped forward and bowed, and then seemed to be nervously explaining the reason for the hullabaloo.

It was interesting to watch Hans try to keep a stern demeanor, since whatever the man was saying obviously pleased him. Kwasi saw his leader smile once, and he knew that no one would suffer Herr Meyer's anger tonight. He pointed to the blue eyed man and his young friend and then back to Hans and asked a question that seemed to take the German by surprise. The Tanzanians eyes lit up when he knew Hans had no answer and let out a whoop of joy and shouted to the crowd.

"Unaona! Herr Meyer amepata uhuru tena. Tutajaribu, mie shika ahadi! (_You see! Mr. Meyer has found freedom! He will try again, I promise you!_)

Hans smiled at the man and replied in Swahili, "Yes Kwasi, I will climb Uhuru again, and this time I will succeed!"

The men cheered and money started changing hands rapidly. Hans shook his head and sat down with a sigh and a rueful smile as he picked up some of the flatbread and tore off a piece. "Their faith in me seems misplaced at times, but I am truly grateful for it."

"What do you mean, sir?" Jeff looked at their new friend in confusion. "What do they trust you to do? And what was that all about?"

There was a pause as Hans scooped some of the paste-like substance up with his bread and then dipped the bread and paste into the stew, using it like a spoon. He sopped up some beans and rice and quickly popped the whole thing into his mouth. Phineas raised an eyebrow at Jeff who nodded and both copied what Hans had done.

He watched them as they fumbled with their makeshift spoons and smiled. "To answer your question young man, they are trusting in me and my friend to be the first men to conquer Uhuru." He swept his right hand out, gesturing toward the door and what lay beyond. "That mountain has beaten me yet again, but I swear to you, _next_ time I will _not fail._"

The men behind them started pounding on their table and Hans laughed. He sat with Phineas and Jeff and told them about his most recent climb as they ate, leaving nothing out. Kwasi and his brother Elimu soon joined them and in broken English and many exaggerated hand gestures described the grueling ordeal. Jeff and Phineas were both amazed at the tenacity of the mountaineer, and the younger Voyager felt that he knew this story, but that it was somehow off.

As Phineas sopped up the last of his coconut bean soup, he shook his head in amazement. "I can't believe you've tried three times already and are still willing to give it another try. What's so special about Uhuru anyway?"

Elimu looked at Kwasi for a translation and they both shook their heads in dismay and disbelief. Hans made a calming gesture with his hands and turned to Phineas with a placating smile. "It happens to be the tallest mountain in Tanzania, among other things, and-"

"Mount Kilimanjaro!" Jeff nearly knocked his chair over in his haste to stand. He looked at Hans in awe as he realized who he was talking to and why their story seemed so familiar. "You… you're climbing _Mt. Kilimanjaro_."

Elimu did not need a translator to understand the amazement and respect in the teen's voice and nodded, smiling broadly. "Herr Meyer will… win Uhuru." He looked at Hans for confirmation of his statement.

"Yes, Elimu, we will conquer it. We will _win_!"

But it was not Hans Meyer that replied. Ludwig Purtscheller had come back in to apologize to Hans and had heard him tell the Americans about the climb. Hans' passion and excitement could not be denied, and Ludwig knew he would follow his friend up Uhuru once more.

Hans spun around in shock and stared into the smiling face before him. Ludwig quirked an eyebrow and Hans broke into raucous laughter. He grabbed Ludwig by the shoulders and embraced him

"Bishara, bring us mbege!"

"Herr Meyer, you celebrate why? Uhuru is not yet beaten." She smiled widely at the group of men. "Uhuru is not to be teased. You be careful." She wagged her finger at him and they all laughed.

As Kwasi started an animated discussion with the two Germans and his brother, Jeff leaned over to Phineas and whispered, "What's the date again?"

"October 6th, 1889. And the light's still red." Bogg looked over at Hans, then back to Jeff. "I'm guessing he was supposed to have reached the summit this last trip?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, he was. The third time was supposed to be 'the charm,' but I guess something went wrong. I just wish I knew what it was."

Before Bogg could respond, Kwasi grabbed Jeff, lifting the seventeen year old off the floor. Elimu pulled Phineas to his feet and thrust a mug into his hands just as his brother put Jeff down and handed him a mug as well. Hans raised his drink in the air and the others followed suit.

"Uhuru! Glück im Unglück." (_Uhuru! A blessing in disguise!)_

They all cheered and drank the golden draught. Jeff looked warily at the amber liquid, then saw that Bogg was waiting for him to drink. He took a large gulp then started to choke and the men laughed as Phineas pounded on his back.

"Mr. Bogg," Hans said with a smile. "You need to teach your nephew how to drink mbege, or beer. When I was his age, I drank beer like water."

Jeff wiped his eyes and coughed once more and said in a watery whisper, "It just went down the wrong pipe."

"That's my boy," Phineas cheered, grinning at his nephew.

It was another hour before the impromptu party broke up. Hans insisted on sharing lodging with his new friends, and they let him make plans for the evening as they stepped outside to get some air.

"Did you find out what that beer was made of? It's kinda sweet. I like it." His head was a little fuzzy but Jeff didn't mind too much.

Phineas laughed and tightened his grip slightly on the inebriated seventeen year old. "Yeah, apparently it's made from bananas. I never knew they could pack such a wallop!"

"You're telling me? I won't touch another banana for a year." Jeff took a deep breath and looked at Bogg. "So, what do you think we should do about Hans?"

"You're the history buff, kid. Do you remember anything more about his climb?" Jeff paced around, trying to pull his thoughts together. He muttered something under his breath that caused Bogg to smile. "What was that, kid?"

Jeff didn't miss the twinkle in his friend's eye and replied sourly, "I said, this would be a lot easier if I wasn't drunk and we had a _guidebook_."

Phineas laughed, "Well, after you finish Academy, you'll have a guidebook, and you're not drunk yet."

"But my head is buzzing…"

"And that's why it's called 'a buzz'," Bogg said with a grin.

Jeff sat down on a log and looked out across the vast landscape. Miles away, standing majestically in the background was Mt. Kilimanjaro. He tried to shake off the effects of the beer to concentrate, and only partially succeeded.

"Okay. I know he made it all the way up in October 1889, like on the fifth or sixth, and then they explored the area for a week or more before coming back down, and they wouldn't have reached Taveta before the last part of October. So he shouldn't be her yet; he should be descending the mountain for another few days at least."

"Do you know when he started his climb this time?"

"No… well, wait a minute." He started to pace, a look a deep concentration on his face. Phineas had learned to not bother him when he was thinking like this.

Jeff rubbed his temples, trying to draw out the memory through the alcohol haze in his brain. "Well, I do remember that it took them _fourteen _days to get from Mombasa where their ship was docked to here in Taveta. And then they stopped in two villages for a few days a piece, and set up camp at the second one which was like half way up the mountain and that's where they started the climb..." Jeff started to ramble off bits of information from memory, reciting it as if he was presenting a project to his class.

"I got it! They left most of the caravan in Marangu and started the climb to the higher elevations on September twenty-eighth. That's Dennis' cousin's birthday." Both he and Phineas laughed at that, and Jeff blushed as he quickly continued. "I'm also pretty sure he had a native as a guide; someone who had been up to the highest peak before. Key... no, umm, Kai… Kim... shoot, what was his name? I know it started with a K."

"You got me, kid, unless it was Kwasi. But I think he was a porter, not a guide…"

"Try human pack mule," Jeff laughed. "Kwasi can carry both of us without breaking a sweat!"

Bogg laughed and continued. "I don't think he said anything about a native guide as he described this last trip. And how did you remember all that?"

Jeff smiled and had a far-away look in his eyes. "Back in fifth grade, my friend Dennis and I did a report on Mt. Kilimanjaro. We made a cool paper mache mountain and everything. We gave the report the week I went on vacation…"

Phineas recognized the pain filled look in Jeff's eyes and realized what it meant.

"The accident."

Jeff nodded. His smile was sad but his voice was strong. "It's okay Bogg. You didn't know. We'd given our report the day before I left with my parents, so it was still fresh in my mind. And Dennis and I were totally into mountain climbing at the time, so anything we learned stuck with me."

"What would I do without you, kid?" Bogg put his arm around Jeff as they started back for the inn. "Now all we need to do is find out if they had their guide or not."

Hans greeted them at the door and led them upstairs to a quiet room with three large beds covered in traditional tribal blankets. It reminded Jeff of being in old Mr. Smith's house, the neighbor who collected anything that had to do with tribal Africa.

As they settled down to sleep, Jeff looked over at their host. "Herr Meyer, I know you had a lot of porters and people helping you on this last trip, but did you have a guide?"

"A guide, young man?"

"Yeah," Jeff pressed him. "Like a, a native or something. Someone who knows Uhuru."

Hans pondered the question before answering. "Well, there was a young man from the Chagga tribe who was going to be my guide, but a gentleman who had joined us for a bit, Dante I believe his name was, convinced me to make the climb on our own. He said the youth was nothing but trouble and would leave me stranded on the mountain."

"Do you remember the young man's name? The one who was to be your guide," Jeff asked.

"I believe his people called him Kinyala. Why do you ask?"

Jeff glanced at Bogg and nodded as he replied. "Well, we'd been told that Kinyala was probably the best guide in the area, and if we wanted to climb Uhuru that he would be the one to use."

Hans shook his head sadly. "That might have been the case a month ago, but no longer. He was offered to me in exchange for standing trial for dodging the road construction 'draft,' and since Dante convinced me not to take him, he stood trial." The tone of his voice left no doubt as to the verdict and sentence for Kinyala, and Jeff shivered.

The older men continued to talk for another twenty minutes before finally calling it a night. As soon as he thought Hans was asleep, Jeff crept over to Phineas' bed and gently shook him. Phineas could see the concern on his face, accentuated by the moonlight, and spoke before Jeff could even open his mouth.

"I know kid, I know. Kinyala wasn't supposed to go to trial or die," he whispered as he sat up. "We'll get the dates from Hans or Ludwig in the morning and then go back and make it right, okay?"

"Okay," Jeff whispered back, glad to get a good night's sleep before Voyaging. "And Bogg?"

Phineas couldn't help but smile at the hopeful, wistful and embarrassed tone Jeff used. It was the same questioning tone he used when they first traveled together and the boy was unsure of where he stood with Bogg or was simply afraid to ask what he thought to be a silly question. And truth be told, Phineas loved the fact that he still used it.

He put his hand on his arm and gave a gentle squeeze. "Yes, Jeffrey. We'll climb with him."

-0-

The next morning the Voyagers were talking to Ludwig over breakfast, discussing the next attempt the group would make to climb Kilimanjaro. As Hans came downstairs to join them he was surprised by the arrival of an acquaintance from the beginning of this last climb.

"Dante, it's good to see you again. Please, join us for breakfast."

As Hans led the dark-haired man to the table Dante froze mid-stride, staring at the two Americans sitting beside Ludwig and Elimu. He knew headquarters had made strides in tracking his newer model omni and would send these two after him once his 'disturbance' was discovered, but the sight of his arch rivals still caught him by surprise. It was a bit sooner than he had hoped, but he decided to make the best of it. His body stiffened and Hans looked concerned.

"Dante, what's wrong?"

Phineas and Jeff looked up as Hans spoke and a moment later both were on their feet, eyes flashing in anger.

Ludwig placed a firm hand on Bogg's arm and muttered to Elimu in Swahili. The large porter slowly stood up behind Jeff and looked ready to end any violence before it could start.

Hans looked at the men nervously. "I, ah, I see that you three have already met?"

"Unfortunately," Jeff said, teeth clenched.

"Drake." Phineas spoke the word as if it were poison.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said your name was Dante, sir?"

With an irritated sigh and a withering glance at Phineas, he replied. "My name is Dante Drake, if you _must_ know. And yes, we do have the... _mis_fortune of being acquainted."

The utter hatred in his voice put a chill through the room that could almost be physically felt. Ludwig looked up at Phineas and noted the look of contempt on his face for Dante matched the tone of Jeff's voice, and he smiled grimly. Ludwig Purtscheller had not trusted the man from the moment they'd met, but Hans was the leader so he deferred to his friend, even though he couldn't shake the feeling that Dante was somehow serving his own needs and not helping the expedition in the slightest.

Glancing at Hans he said, "Ich erklärte Ihnen, dass dieser Mann nicht vertrauenswürdig war. Er muss gehen. Jetzt." _(I told you this man was not trustworthy. He needs to leave. Now.)_

"I'm untrustworthy, you say?"

Ludwig flushed with embarrassment as Dante stared at him in icy amusement. "I say that the man who would speak about another in a different language, assuming he has an advantage, is himself untrustworthy, and an ass."

"It takes one to know one," Jeff muttered angrily. "And only an ass who had someone murdered would come back to see how he'd changed history."

Phineas shot a warning glare at his partner. "Back off, kid."

Drake shrugged and took his silver omni out of his waistcoat pocket. Tossing it from hand to hand, he challenged the young Voyager.

"Why don't you go back and stop me? I'll even give you the date. September 17th , 1889, in this very inn."

Jeff responded without hesitation. "You're on!"

"Gentlemen, please," Hans held up his hands to quite them. "Herr Bogg, Herr Drake. Let's not..."

Drake spun on his heel and headed for the door. "Then, catch me if you can, young Mr. Jones," he called over his shoulder. "And don't be surprised if you suddenly find yourself with a difficult choice to make. You can't save everyone you know."

Jeff knocked his chair down as he vaulted over the table and ran after Drake, leaving a stunned group of mountaineers and villagers behind him. Bogg quickly recovered and ran after him, followed by Hans, Ludwig, Kwasi and Elimu after the briefest discussion as to whether they should or not.

Phineas called out to Jeff as the young man rounded the back corner of the inn, but Jeff didn't stop. He was going to make Drake pay for all the history he had destroyed, and there wasn't anything or anyone who could stop him.

Drake had run around to the backside of the inn and was setting his omni as Jeff rounded the corner.

_Perfect,_ Drake thought as he saw Jeff coming for him. _Separating them is going to be so much easier than I thought. And then I can move forward with my plan._

Drake had anticipated being attacked by Jeff or Bogg and was ready to trigger his omni the moment he was touched, but he was not prepared to be assaulted from behind by Bishara as she threw out the breakfast scraps.

Using the distraction to his advantage, Jeff tackled Drake and tried to grab the omni from him. The young man was stronger than Drake had expected, so the scuffle quickly became more of a wrestling match.

Phineas rounded the corner and watched helplessly as Jeff grappled with the enemy Voyager. He had already set his omni to take them straight to Voyager Headquarters and tried to grab either Voyager so he could trigger his omni, but it was proving much harder than it seemed. Drake was putting up an amazing fight and Bogg knew from experience that going into the time corridor while trying to keep hold of a struggling body, let alone two of them, was difficult at best.

Jeff had gained the upper hand and flipped Drake onto his back. He had nearly broken two fingers as he forced them into Drake's clenched fist and tried to pry the omni from him. He briefly saw his partner behind him and shouted.

"Bogg, now!"

Phineas reached out and grabbed Jeff's shoulder, but was knocked off balance by a kick from Drake. This caused him to stumble forward onto Jeff who then lost what little grip he had on Drake's omni, giving his enemy full control once more. The renegade Voyager quickly pressed activator and the three men disappeared just as the other four men came around the corner. The two Germans stared at the now empty space in shock, and Kwasi made the sign against evil while Elimu started to chant a prayer to keep the evil spirits from coming back to haunt them.

As they flew through the cosmos, Drake's only thought was that his plan was at last moving forward as he had planned. And if his enemies acted as predictably as he knew they would, he would soon be rid of both of them. Permanently.


	2. Georgia on my Mind

**Chapter 2**

_**Saturday June 30th, 1928, Los Angeles, California**_

_**Near the Los Angeles Athletic Club and Hotel**_

"Ugh!"

Jeff scowled as he slowly climbed off the pile of trash he'd landed in and brushed some refuse off his pants. He was slightly disoriented and tried to remember why he was here. City noises could be heard coming from the entrance of the alley he'd landed in, reminding Jeff of home. All at once he remembered fighting with Drake and looked around for his foe, as well as his best friend.

"Bogg?"

To his right was a short flight of stairs leading down to the basement of the large brick building at the back end of the alley and he shuddered as he realized just how close he'd come to landing there.

Phineas had landed hard, about fifteen yards away from his partner on a stack of cardboard boxes and was hidden from view of his friend. A shadow crossed his path, and as Bogg rolled off the boxes he was hit on the back of his head by a metal trash can lid.

Hearing the clang of metal against a solid object, Jeff spun around toward the back end of the alley and watched in stunned silence as Bogg staggered and turned to face his attacker only to be grabbed by his vest while the man slammed his fist into his ribs. Phineas tried to defend himself against the attack but was still disoriented and dizzy from the blow to his head. His assailant wore a malicious smile as he struck his foe hard with a swift uppercut to the jaw.

"Bogg!"

The teen ran to his aid as Bogg crumbled in a heap and Jeff grabbed the attacker by the back of the shirt, spun the man around and punched him in the jaw. Drake staggered back a few steps and then came at him with a wicked left hook. Jeff ducked the blow and while still bent over, slugged his nemesis in the stomach. Drake retaliated by grabbing Jeff by the shoulders and kneeing him in the chest, followed quickly by a double-fisted blow to the middle of his back. He watched in satisfaction as the young man keeled over like a felled tree. He paced between the two Voyagers and taunted Jeff who was gasping for air.

"The mighty Phineas Bogg and valiant Jeffrey Jones, once again thwarted in their efforts to capture the _renegade_ Voyager Drake." He made a clicking noise with his tongue and then kicked Jeff in the side as he tried to get up. "When will you learn that you can _not_ beat me?"

He knelt down beside the younger man and grabbed a fistful of dark, curly hair and pulled Jeff's head back, causing them to look eye to eye.

"Garth and the others are petty, weak fools to think that anyone can stop me. I, who studied under the great Niccolò Machiavelli himself; I who like my master suffered the humiliating torture of being hung by my writs for hours with my arms bound behind my back because the Spanish dogs and the Medici thought we were anti-Medici conspirators. They called us traitors!"

He spat after naming each group, his hatred for them hotter than for the two men in front of him. "Let's see how long you last, hung by your wrists."

Drake shoved Jeff back to the ground and pinned him down with his knee in the center of his back. He then grabbed Jeff's wrists and pulled the teens arms behind his back and forced them upward toward his head as he applied pressure with his knee. As Jeff cried out in pain his captor gloated over him.

"You see? Not a very comfortable position to be in, is it my young Mr. Jones?"

The renegade Voyager took great pleasure in torturing Jeff, and described to him in detail his harrowing ordeal with Machiavelli back in 1513. As Jeff was forced to listen to and experience Drake's pain, there was some small, still rational part of his brain that realized that this is what made Drake the man he was. But the moment he had the thought, it was gone once more, replaced by searing pain from muscles screaming for relief.

"Please," he gasped, trying not to pass out from the beating his body could no longer endure. "Let me… go."

The laugh that came from the man above him was dark and malicious, and it actually frightened Jeff. "You know, I spoke those very words to that Spanish bastard Fernando. Do you know what he did? He grabbed my legs and pulled down on them, and then laughed as I screamed when my shoulders dislocated."

As he described the scene, he forced Jeff's arms up further and Jeff yelled loudly. But before Drake could do anything else to his captive, there was another scream from the entrance of the alley. Drake looked up to see a young woman running toward him followed closely by a young man who easily caught her and slammed her against the cold brick wall of the building about twenty-five yards away.

"Now, my pretty li'l diver, let's see whot your baving suit covers up, eh?"

As he pulled on her blouse to expose her, the young woman screamed again and her attacker quickly covered her mouth, but she had been heard. In the distance, the occupants of the alley heard an enraged yell.

"Get your hands off my girl, you hooligan!"

Drake decided it was time to leave and knelt beside Jeff. "Don't think for a moment that I'm through with either one of you," he snarled in Jeff's ear. "I will have my revenge on you both. Count on it."

He stood up and saw a group of people round the corner into the alley. The man leading the charge looked every inch the part of a circus strong-man, and Drake vanished before he could be seen.

"Coach, help me!"

The panicked cry cut through Jeff's senses and he struggled to sit up to see what was going on. The attacker dragged the young woman with him down the alley, right toward Jeff and Phineas. Without a second thought for himself, Jeff gathered what little strength he had left and tackled them as they passed. The young woman shrieked as she fell and watched the two men as they hit the ground in a rolling heap of arms and legs.

They tumbled into the wall at the end of the alley and the stranger's head slammed against the wall with a satisfying thud. _Huh_, Jeff thought as he sat pinning the stranger's legs down,_ Mrs. Smith was right. __Onomatopoeia really does imitate the sound it represents. Head hitting the wall goes 'thud'._ The absurdity of the thought brought a smile to his face. _Guess I did learn something in third grade after all._

The adrenaline rush that allowed him to jump the woman's attacker was ebbing fast away and his arms once more felt leaden and painful. Then he realized that Drake was gone and there was no one else there to explain how he and Bogg were injured. He needed to come up with a story. Fast.

Keeping as firm a grip as he could on his captive, Jeff turned his attention back to the trembling young woman who was now sitting on an overturned trash can. His heart went out to the terrified woman and if he didn't have to sit on the cretin who attacked her, he'd go to her side and hold her, comfort her.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't see the girl's rescuers arrive. He was jolted back to reality by a pair of very large hands grabbing his shirt and lifting him straight off the ground and then shoving him against the cold, unforgiving wall.

"I'll teach you and your low-life hooligan friends to attack women…"

The blow landed to Jeff's midsection before he could lift his arms to defend himself. He gasped loudly and coughed, trying not to throw up from the pain. He knew a second punch was coming but heard a young voice to his right, begging for his release.

"Coach, he _saved me_ from that hoodlum. Coach _please_!" Georgia grabbed his arm before he could hit the young man again. "It was Buddy, Coach. The guy who's been watching diving practice..." She took a shuddering breath as she pointed to the man still on the ground. "Buddy's the one who…"

Coach Fred Cady glared at the young man he was holding and then turned his attention to the hapless fellow on the ground to his left. With a growl that would frighten Al Capone, he released Jeff and stormed over to the would-be rapist and grabbed him the same way he'd had Jeff.

"Buddy Doyle, you're gonna rue the day you were born!"

As Jeff's feet touched the ground, two pairs of gentle hands tried to support him.

"Don't let him fall, Clara!"

"I won't, Georgia. Betty, put his arm over your shoulder…"

"Ease him down, Clara. Slowly..."

Jeff allowed them to help him to the ground as he tried to regain his senses. The girls kept up a steady stream of concerned chatter and that same small, rational part of his brain registered their care and tried valiantly to make the rest of his body aware of it. It wasn't until a very young female voice cried out that he forced himself to surface from the fog.

"Coach, I found someone and he's hurt bad!"

Jeff tried to stand but Betty put her hand on his chest. "Don't get up, I'll take care of it. Georgia, come over here beside him."

"Gotta help… Bogg…" his voice was barely above a whisper, but there was fear and urgency that carried more power than volume. Georgia saw in his eyes the same fear she felt when Buddy grabbed her and she took hold of his hand.

"Did Buddy attack you guys, too?"

He felt bad for lying about it, but he nodded his head. "Yeah."

There was a flurry of activity as more people came down the alley, and Jeff couldn't keep track of what was going on, other than the fact that Georgia stayed right by his side almost the entire time.

Georgia was able to convince the police that the two men they'd found were attacked by Buddy before he'd gone after her, and after the roughing up he'd received at the coach's hands Buddy was ready to admit to just about anything. The team doctor briefly examined Phineas and ordered him to be taken to the coach's suite, an idea the coach didn't like too well. But when he saw Georgia look at the young man who rescued her, his heart softened just a bit, even though he still thought the two men might have had something to do with his diver being attacked.

-0-

While Dr. Walsh made sure that Georgia was okay, Jeff and Phineas were taken to Coach Cady's room. Once he was satisfied that she was not injured, he went over to check on the men, under the coach's watchful eye. Georgia followed him to the room and sat in the living room with Jeff and Betty while Dr. Walsh examined Phineas.

Even though he was in a considerable amount of pain Jeff had insisted his uncle be looked at first, and Georgia's heart melted with compassion for her wounded rescuer. He kept pacing the room, and watched the closed door to the bedroom with anxious eyes. After almost ten minutes of this the sixteen year old diver looked over at Betty, who was nine years her senior, turning on her undeniable charm.

"Betty, would you please tell Coach that Jeff needs to see his uncle? I'm afraid he's going to wear a hole in the carpet if he keeps pacing like that."

The older diver harrumphed and shook her head. "Nuh uh. No way. Coach is as mad as a hornet about what Buddy tried to do to you, and I'm still not entirely sure he doesn't think Jeff and his uncle were involved in your attack. Why do you think he left me with the two of you?"

The younger diver had to smile and nod her head in the face of that glaring truth. The first time Buddy Doyle snuck into the girls locker room to 'catch 'imself a little peek', it was Betty who grabbed the young man and held him in a vice grip until the security guard got there to escort him off the premises. And the only thing slightly less scary than an angry Coach Cady was an angry Elizabeth Becker.

"Oh Applesauce, Betty. You can stand up to Coach! I've seen you do it. Now will you _please_ go tell him that Jeff needs to see his uncle, and the doctor for that matter?"

Just for good measure, she turned on the smile that she was becoming well known for, besides her diving, and Betty relented. Having been sixteen once, and smitten with her fair share of handsome young men, Betty knew Georgia wanted to talk to Jeff alone.

Betty shook her head and smiled. "I'll be right back."

When Georgia smiled, it was like the sun peeking through the clouds, burning off the fog in Jeff's pain-numbed brain. His entire body ached deeply, but it lessened whenever he looked into Georgia's eyes.

The rational part of his brain laughed at him, _You're such a sap, Jeff. Get a grip! _

Once Betty turned toward the bedroom Georgia sighed and let her true emotions come to the surface. Her smile was gone but there was deep respect and admiration in her eyes as she looked into Jeff's dark and slightly confused eyes. She wrapped both of her hands around his as the tears formed but refused to fall.

"I just wanted to, to thank you for what you did for me."

Her voice was shaking and Jeff could see her fear coming back with vicious strength. He put his free hand on top of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I couldn't let him hurt you, no matter how badly I'd been hurt." He avoided saying _who_ had hurt him but allowed her to still think it had been Buddy.

Georgia tried to speak but she couldn't keep up the facade any longer and started to cry, letting Jeff take her in his arms. The protectiveness he'd felt for her down in the alley intensified, and for the first time in his life, he started to understand how and why Bogg did what he did. He didn't even really know this young woman, but he already knew he would do anything to protect her from harm.

-0-

Phineas became aware of his surroundings slowly. He ached all over and felt like his head had been stuffed with cotton. Something was touching him and he tried to swat it away but his arms only twitched in response. There was a buzzing sound in his ears and he tried to wade through the cotton in his head to get to the lower part of consciousness, but it was difficult.

Dr. Walsh noticed that his patient was coming around and glanced over at Coach Cady. "You'd better go get the boy. Things will go better if he's in here."

Fred Cady glared at the young doctor with distrust. "I'll not have those hooligans in here collaborating on their stories," he growled in what the girls called his 'angry coach voice.' "It's bad enough that my girls are out there alone with that young ruffian…"

The young doctor shook his head. He had been with the team when they found Georgia and he heard her defend the young man who was in the other room. Buddy Doyle had been known to harass the male and female divers at the Athletic Club and Dr. Walsh had patched up men's diver Mickey Riley after he got in a scrape with Buddy, so he knew the young Irishman was capable of holding his own in a fight. He was also strong enough to do the kind of damage the man before him suffered. But the arrogance of Coach Cady had worn thin, and though Dr. Walsh was merely twenty-five and fresh out of medical school that was no reason to question his judgment. He knew his authority was once again being questioned simply because of his age, and he'd finally had enough.

"Mister Cady." The doctor's tone was ice cold and his green eyes blazed in emerald flames. He purposely did not use the title 'coach', and it had the desired affect- the coach's undivided, though angry attention.

"Let me first point out that malcontents like Buddy are not in the habit of rescuing victims, but are more likely to work together to 'share the spoils,' as it were. So I'm quite confident that these two men are not in cahoots with him but were simply victims like Georgia."

Coach Cady glared hotly at the younger man. "You're 'quite confidant', are you? You young whipper-snapper! What do you know-"

"Ah, yes," Dr. Walsh's voice rose above the coach's until the older man was quiet, "You are now going to remind me that you are at least eighteen years my senior, so what do I know of life? Well, I wish to remind you that I have completed four years of college and four years of medical school. Though I am looked down upon and snubbed for my age and 'lack of experience', I daresay that the Head Team Doctor would not be pleased that his hand picked, personal choice for this medical team was questioned in any way, for any reason, or under any circumstances. Have I made my position perfectly clear Sir?"

The title was said with equal amounts of respect and distain, as one might speak to an equal who you were forced to respect out of propriety, but in reality felt they were beneath you. The doctor's eyes blazed with a determination the coach had not seen in any individual in quite some time, and Fred Cady stared hard at the young man, sizing him up. Dr. Walsh held his gaze and ever-so-slightly inclined his head with an arched eyebrow, and the coach cracked. He smiled the devilish smile his divers loved, and he stuck out his hand.

"Bravo and well said sir! As many of my divers will tell you, I do need to be put in my place on occasion. And today was one of those occasions. Though I'm still not as trusting of these two as you youngsters seem to be, but I will go and fetch the young man…"

Betty knocked on the door and both men said, "Come in!"

"Coach, Doctor," Betty addressed both men and blushed as the handsome doctor smiled in response. "Um, Jeff wants to see his uncle right away, and I think he's hurt more than he's letting on…"

While the men were talking Phineas was finally able to clear his head. He heard the tone in the coach's voice, and the not-so-veiled threat as well, and then heard a woman say Jeffrey was hurt. He wasn't sure who they were or what was going on, but he knew he had to somehow protect Jeff so he forced his eyes open and tried to sit up. Unfortunately his mild concussion caused him instant and dizzying pain and he gasped, startling the trio in the room.

Dr. Walsh put a reassuring hand on the man's chest, but he became agitated. Coach Fred Cady took hold of Phineas' hand and gripped it while speaking in a firm but kind voice. "It's alright young man. Easy does it." He glanced at the doctor and then turned to Betty. "Go get the boy. Now."

-0-

Georgia had finally convinced Jeff to sit down, but within a minute or so, they heard someone cry out in pain, and the distinct voice of the coach ordering Betty to get Jeff. Georgia helped him off the couch and they nearly collided with Betty as she was coming out the door. Georgia pulled her friend out the door and shoved Jeff in with one fluid motion, but kept a hold of Betty's hand and stood in the doorway and watched Jeff calm his uncle.

"Bogg, it's okay. I'm right here! We're safe now."

Jeff went to his friend and forced him to lie still. Once Phineas saw Jeffrey, he relaxed somewhat, but was still agitated as he glanced at Fred. Coach Cady stepped back and let Jeff talk to his uncle.

"Just relax, Bogg. It's okay. We're with friends. Don't try to get up you'll-"

Bogg clutched his head and gasped in pain as he fell back onto the pillows again and Jeff just shook his head. "I think that creep may have given you a concussion when he attacked you in the alley."

Jeff's tone of voice cut through the pain and Phineas realized he was getting their 'cover story.' He also noted that Jeff didn't identify his attacker as Drake.

"Oh... right. He jumped me and then..."

"Don't worry yourself about it now, son," Fred cut in. "The police have that young rapscallion in custody, thanks in part to this young man beside you."

The doctor, Betty and Georgia all looked at the coach in shock. Fred Cady was known for his temper and for being man enough to admit when he was wrong. He winked at Dr. Walsh as he continued. "You should be very proud of your nephew, Mr. Bogg. He's a brave young man. Now, you just lay back and rest while our team doctor takes a look at Jeffrey."

The others noted his use of Jeff's first name and knew that these two were now under the coach's protection, and Georgia smiled.

Phineas looked at Jeff, confused. "_Team_ doctor?"

Jeff smiled, "Yeah, the US Olympic team doctor. Georgia's on the diving team."

"Alright ladies," the coach said in his I-mean-business voice. "Let's leave these two to Dr. Walsh. I'll order dinner up here and we'll eat when the doctor is done. Head on back to your room now and rest."

He walked over to Georgia and put his hands on both her shoulders, his expression both tender and fiercely protective. "And you, young lady…"

Georgia wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly. Coach didn't like to show how deeply he cared, and she knew this attack today scared all of them, but possibly him most of all and she couldn't stand to see the tears in his eyes. She smiled as he hugged her just as tightly and tried hard to not cry herself.

"C'mon squirt," Betty said as she gently pried the two apart. "I'm sure the other girls are dying to find out what exactly happened and how you're doing. Let's head back to our room and we'll leave the boys alone."

-0-

Back in the diver's room, Betty and Georgia were peppered with questions from the other three divers about Jeff and his uncle and just exactly what had happened. Georgia glossed over how Buddy got her separated from the group and then chased her out of the club and down the alley, choosing to focus instead on her knight in shining armor.

Thirteen year old Dorothy clutched the arm of her 'diving-momma', Clarita, and the twenty-two year old stroked her hair as she gently rocked back and forth on the settee with her young protégée.

"I told you Buddy was a lounge lizard," Dorothy said, eyes wide with fear. "He gives me the heebie-jeebies!"

Helen nodded in agreement as she sat down next to Georgia. "Why do you think Mickey got into that fight with him? Mickey was protecting us, that's for sure. When the boys get back from their meet, you're gonna be the center of attention once again, Miss Georgia."

"Maybe," Georgia conceded. She looked a little apprehensive, but then smiled as she brought up her new favorite subject. "But I think Jeff is keen. Isn't he just the cat's meow?"

It was obvious to the three older divers that she didn't want to talk about the attack, and Betty had told the others how Georgia was carrying a torch for Jeff, so this statement sent them into a fit of giggles.

"Oh Georgie," Betty said as she caught her breath. "Yes, he is the cat's meow, but I really think he's the bee's knees."

"Elizabeth Becker," Georgia feigned shock, "He's _much_ too young for you."

Betty was glad to see the playful spark in the sixteen year olds eyes and laughed. "I'm only twenty-five for heaven's sake!"

"Well, I'm sixteen, and he's seventeen. You're too old for him and you can't have him."

"And I suppose you can?" Clarita shook her head as the laughter continued. "Georgie, my 'little sister,' you and that smile of yours are going to get us in trouble! First you flirt with Mickey and the guys diving team, then Bobby from the bakery, and now this guy? When we get to Amsterdam for the Olympics, you'll be known as the Diving Flapper if you keep this up."

Georgia's face went white. Buddy had called her a flapper, which was a huge insult to the sixteen year old. He told her all about places in Amsterdam "good girls like 'er" wouldn't go but flappers would and then described what he would do to her there. He'd said, "You're a flapper, missy. You 'an your short blond hair and your big smile leadin' da men on. Men like me know what t'do wif a girl like you."

Georgia stood up quickly, crossing the room to the window and looked at the cars passing below. Her parents were coming to visit this evening before the team left on the first leg of their journey the following Friday and she knew it was now or never. Her daddy would protect her and no one would ever call her a flapper again. Even if it meant giving up on her dream.

"I'm not going to Amsterdam."

-0-

While the girls were talking, Dr. Walsh finished examining Phineas and then checked out Jeff as well.

"They're tough young men Coach, and will just be sore for a while," Dr. Walsh said as he finished checking Jeff's sternum and ribs. "Buddy gave the two of you quite a beating."

"Yes sir," Jeff nodded. The young Voyager had answered most questions the doctor and coach asked the two newcomers, which was made easier by the fact that Phineas had fallen asleep. Coach Cady told them all about Buddy Doyle and how he had harassed the male and female diving teams, so Jeff had no problem making them believe he had attacked them as well.

"That young hooligan needs to be taught a lesson, and I'm just the man to do it," the coach growled and flexed his massive biceps. He reminded Jeff of a shorter, yet older version of David Prowse, and looked every bit the part of a strong man from a 1920's circus- complete with the short, waxed handlebar moustache. This was one man Jeff never wanted to cross. Ever.

As he put his shirt back on, Jeff asked casually, "So, when can my uncle and I leave? We don't want to impose-"

"Nonsense, m'boy," Coach Cady said jovially. "You're no inconvenience at all! We have plenty of room for the two of you, and having you stay with us is the _least_ I can do to repay your kindness. No, don't argue. It's already been decided," he said as he raised his hand to silent the boy's protest.

Dr. Walsh nodded in agreement. "I recommend you both rest for a day or two before traveling again. Your uncle's concussion isn't bad but I don't want him traveling quite yet. I'll check back again on Monday and see how he's doing. And you, young man will be rather sore for several days. Don't be surprised to see some solid bruising where his knee hit you, and make sure to stretch out your arms, but carefully. You should be more comfortable by Monday or Tuesday."

"Thank you, Dr. Walsh. Now young man," Coah Cady turned to Jeff. "you get in bed and I'll have them bring up some food."

There was no arguing with the coach, so Jeff climbed into the second bed in the room. He had to admit, it was pretty comfortable and after the beating he took, it felt good to relax.

"Thanks again, Doc. For everything," Fred said as he walked the doctor to the door. "And I do mean _everything_."

The twinkle in the irascible coach's eyes held deep respect, and Dr. Walsh smiled as he gripped the coach's hand in a firm shake. "You, sir, are most welcome. Good evening to you."

As the doctor started to walk down the hallway, the door to the girl's room flew open and he was nearly knocked over by Clarita.

"Oh! Dr. Walsh I'm so sorry. Excuse me…"

Before he could ask what was wrong, she was pounding on Coach Cady's door. "Coach, open up, please!"

"Clare… what's wrong, my girl?" Fred swung open the door and she nearly tumbled in. The noise brought Jeff in and he stood beside the coach.

"It's Georgie. She's refusing to go to Amsterdam. She says she won't dive!"

-0-

"Georgia, wait… please?" Jeff called out to her from the elevator.

She glanced back at Jeff and then ran into her mother's open arms. She said something to her father and he stepped protectively in front of the two women, adjusted his fedora and glared at the young man, who now stood about ten feet away.

Drake sat in a large red velvet wingback chair across the lobby and watched in amusement from behind a newspaper as Jeff tried to explain to Mr. Coleman that he wasn't a threat to his daughter, and was clearly getting nowhere with the man. A moment later, Coach Fred Cady burst from the second elevator followed closely by the rest of the women's diving team. Phineas exited last, moving very carefully.

"Oh, this should be interesting," Drake muttered as he watched the unfolding drama. The coach got into an animated discussion with Mr. Coleman, pointing to Jeff and Phineas and miming a fight. Meanwhile Mrs. Coleman had her arm around her daughter and watched them apprehensively, glancing at the other divers and the dark haired young man from time to time.

The front desk agent watched the exchange, hand on phone ready to call the manager at a moments notice. A few employees observed quietly as they passed through the lobby, but knew better than to interfere, especially when Fred Cady was involved.

After a few tense minutes, it appeared that the coach had made his point and Georgia was once again part of the Olympic diving team.

"Georgie-Porgie, you listen to 'ole Fred Cady. You are an _amazing _diver, and I promise you, this is a decision you _won't_ regret. I see a gold medal in your future, my dear. You're gonna be the 'big cheese' around here in no time!"

The divers ran to Georgia and enveloped her in a group hug while Mr. Coleman firmly shook Jeff's hand. Mrs. Coleman was dabbing her eyes with her kerchief and then warmly embraced the young man who had saved her daughter's life.

The lively chatter of the girls filled the lobby and Drake watched as Bogg and Jeff separated themselves from the group for a private chat. He smiled darkly as his nemesis took his omni off his belt and opened it up, knowing that he would be greeted with darkness. Jeffrey was agitated, raising his arms and gesturing with his hands, pointing first to Georgia, then her parents and the team in obvious frustration.

"Tsk, tsk tsk. Poor boy can't tell if they've got a red light or a green light. What a pity." Taking his own omni out of his pocket, he opened it up and saw the bright green light shining back at him; he had managed to disable that irritating happy little 'ding!' sound years ago. "It seems our little trip with my omni and its open time calibration has made your sad, ancient little tinker toy malfunction yet again."

Phineas said something that had a calming effect on his friend and smiled that annoyingly gracious smile Drake had come to despise. After Jeff nodded, Bogg patted him on the shoulder and moved back toward the group of girls who had now been joined by the boys diving team. Betty took Phineas by the hand and led him over to the group, but not before he was able to glance back at Jeff with a wink and a smile.

"Oh how droll," Dante Drake sneered. "Now I'm sure they'll all start talking about diving and Mr. Perfect Pike will just have to show them how good he is… pathetic! Oh, but wait. What's this?"

He sat up with interest as Jeff walked over to Georgia and he put his arm around her. Even from across the room their feelings for each other were evident and Drake's eyes narrowed as they walked toward the elevators.

"Now this could be interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed."

-0-

Later that night as Phineas worked on the omni, Jeff was finally able to fill him in on what had happened after leaving Tanzania and what he had learned from Drake about his time with Machiavelli. Listening to Jeff describe what Drake did to him, Phineas felt both sick and proud at the same time. Pride in that Jeff withstood the attack from both Drake _and_ Coach, giving him a new appreciation for his young friend. But the fact that he wasn't able to defend Jeff irritated him to no end.

"By the way," Jeff said as he sat down on the bed, "what's with this whole _Dante_ thing anyway? I thought his first name was Drake."

Phineas smiled and gave a soft chuckle, the most he could do with his sore ribs and moderate headache. "Nah. I started calling him Drake in Academy because he was so pompous about his name: Dante Ebenezer Drake." Phineas' eyes twinkled in amusement at his partners shocked expression.

"I thought 'Dante' was bad enough, but _Ebenezer_? You're joking."

Phineas looked up from the omni with a smile. "Nope. 'Da Geezer Ebenezer' is what most of us in Academy called him at some point or another. Seemed to fit him, even then."

"No kidding," Jeff chortled. "He could certainly give Scrooge a run for his money! So, what's wrong with the 'ol omni _this_time?" He walked back over to his friend and peered over Bogg's shoulder, staring at the flickering red light and dark globe.

"I wish I knew kid," he sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his eyes. "I still can't quite see straight thanks to the concussion Geezer gave me. But as near as I can figure, Drake's omni must have been triggered before mine. But mine was set for VHQ, so that should have over-ridden anything he'd set his for…"

"I _told you_we should have upgraded your stupid omni the last time they offered. Damn it!" Jeff picked up a pillow off the settee and threw it across the room. "This is just great. He's out there in the great wide somewhere while we're stuck here with no clue as to what we're supposed to be doing, or if we've even _got_ a red light. What the hell are we supposed to do, huh?"

Bogg looked up at his friend and said sternly, "Stay calm for starters, kid. And don't shout, you're giving me a headache."

Jeff completely ignored the playful tone in Bogg's voice; in fact it just mad him madder. "Stay calm? Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to protect her if I don't know what the hell's going on? I'm outta here."

"Jeff, come back here. Jeffrey!"

The hotel room door slammed in response and Phineas winced as his head started to throb again. He fought the urge to swipe the omni parts off the desk and across the room and just sighed instead.

"Next on the list of things to talk about," he said quietly, "How to control your temper."

He stood up slowly and stared at the door as a flash of memory ran through his brain, causing him to flush with guilt and some understanding. He looked up to the ceiling, eyes pleading that his words were accepted.

"I get it now, Mom. And I'm sorry for everything I ever did between the ages of twelve and seventeen."

He sat down on the bed and then added, "Oh, and by the way. Your um, _grandchild _is indeed paying me back for everything I put you through. With interest."


	3. Diving in Head First

**Chapter 3**

_**Los Angeles Raquet Club**_

_**Saturday June 30**__**th**__**, 1928, 9:30pm**_

The moon reflecting on the calm water of the swimming pool shimmered like a liquid pearl as Jeff and Georgia sat at the edge of the high dive platform. The June air stirred every so often, ruffling dark and blonde curls in its wake as Jeff took the diver's hand in his own. His thoughts raced from one problem to the next, resembling a cat chasing its tail.

_I've gotta get back to Hans and convince him to take Kinyala with him. But I can't leave Georgia unprotected… right, Jeff. Like she's 'unprotected' with Coach Cady and Bogg around. But what happens if Drake tries something? Bogg's still healing, and Drake could con the coach or any of the divers. But I've _got_ to set History straight for that climb…_

"A penny for your thoughts?" Her lovely voice startled him and she giggled. "You just seemed so far away, and I'd rather have you here with me."

It was the most forward she had been with him since his arrival and she blushed at her own brashness. Even with the few lights that were lit, Jeff saw her cheeks color and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'd much rather be here, too."

She looked him in the eye. "I'm not so sure about that, Jeffrey. You seem very nervous, almost antsy. I'm no dumb Dora, ya know. Just because I'm sixteen doesn't mean that I can't see…" She paused, realizing that he was chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"I just love the way you say things is all. I don't get to be with kids my own age too much, so I miss out on a lot of things and the cool sayings. Like 'horsefeathers' and 'dumb Dora'. And I just like how you say them."

Down below, Drake stood in the shadows and watched as Jeff leaned forward and gently kissed Georgia.

"Ah, young love. Following in the illustrious footsteps of your mentor, are we? Very good, Jeffrey. So, I shall take you away and break more than one heart in the process. Very, very good indeed."

-0-

Fred Cady stood in the lobby, waiting for Jeff and Georgia to come in. It was ten o'clock at night and if Georgia's parents knew she was out after curfew with a boy, _alone_... His head snapped up as he heard the door open and Georgia's distinctive giggle.

"It's about time you got in."

Fred had heard Jeff slam the door and storm down the hallway earlier that evening, followed by Georgia calling after him. When he looked out into the hall, he saw them enter the elevator, heading for the first floor. He walked down to Phineas' room and the two men discussed how difficult teens could be and talk eventually turned to diving and Phineas' experience on his Academy's diving team. When Jeff hadn't returned by nine forty-five, Coach Cady decided he would go get them, and maybe put some fear into both kids in the process.

The two teens jumped in shock at the greeting as they entered the back of the lobby and Jeff quickly stepped in front of Georgia to protect her. Coach Cady crossed his sizeable arms, staring down at the tardy lovebirds.

"Coach Cady! Sir…" Jeff stuttered. "I uh, I mean we were… ah…"

Georgia peeked out from behind Jeff, nervously making brief eye contact with her coach. "We were just sitting on the high dive platform, Coach."

"You were outside after curfew with a boy. Alone?"

Jeff was about to explain when Helen walked in from the pool area. "Hey you two, I told you to let me know when you- oh hi Coach. It's okay, I was with them."

Jeff and Georgia spun around and looked at Helen, confused. She raised her eyebrows ever-so-slightly and smiled at the two teens, who then turned back to the coach and nodded their heads in agreement.

Georgia now stood beside Jeff and took his hand. "I wanted to ask Jeff something, and I knew you wouldn't want me, or us, out there alone, so Helen said she'd tag along. We sat on the high dive for some privacy."

Coach Cady un-crossed his arms, then started to twist the left side of his handlebar mustache. "And just what was it that you had to ask him that required such _privacy_?"

The diver ducked her head and blushed, but it was Jeff who answered his question.

"She asked me to come to Amsterdam with the team to act as her bodyguard."

It had sounded so noble, so wonderful when she asked him. Even when he had pondered the question, it still seemed like a good idea. But standing in front of the coach and speaking it out loud, Jeff realized just how foolish it really was.

The coach quirked an eyebrow - whether in amusement or distain the young man couldn't tell - and then grunted.

"Hm. Her bodyguard. What's wrong with the men's diving team? Or Phineas. Or me?" He flexed one large bicep for emphasis. "You don't think we can protect you?"

Truth be told, Fred Cady was thoroughly enjoying this little scene and the pressure these two suddenly found themselves under. He wasn't too keen on the two of them being out by the pool un-chaperoned though, knowing that Helen just happened to come in at the right moment. He would deal with her breaking curfew later. But he wanted to see just what this young man was all about.

Jeff started to defend himself but then his mind did a double-take on what the coach had just said. "Wait a minute. What do you mean by 'or Phineas'? How's he gonna protect her in Amsterdam?"

Unable to contain himself any longer, Fred Cady burst out laughing. "Oh, my boy! I'm sorry. Your uncle wanted to give you the news himself, but I don't think he'd mind too much. We talked after you left, and it seems he knows a thing or two about diving. So I've decided to take him on as guardian of the ladies team, and my assistant coach. Well, that is, pending my approval of his "try out" once Dr. Walsh says he's okay."

Georgia gave a small squeak and wrapped her arms around Jeff's waist, but quickly pulled away under the stern glare of her coach and mentor. Helen just smiled and decided to head back upstairs, but not before the coach pointed to her and tapped his wristwatch. She sighed and nodded, knowing full well to expect an extra half hour of practice tomorrow while the other divers watched.

Jeff wasn't sure what to make of the coach's announcement. He was happy to stay as long as Bogg would allow, and if that meant going to the Olympics with the team, so be it. He would do almost anything to be near Georgia.

"And now, it's late and my little diver needs to get as much sleep as she can because she has extra dives to practice tomorrow."

Georgia nodded glumly. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry for breaking curfew, but I think it was worth it." She brightened slightly as she spoke the last few words, then gave Jeff a peck on the cheek and dashed off towards the elevators, leaving the two men alone in the lobby.

"It's been a big day for you, young man. You had better get back to your room and let your uncle know that you're alive and well, and that I didn't kill you for taking my girl off in the dark un-chaperoned."

There was a twinkle in his blue eyes, but the veiled threat didn't go unnoticed and Jeff swallowed hard. "Yes... yes sir Coach Cady, sir. I won't do it again, I swear."

"Atta boy."

Coach Cady walked off with a smile and Jeff just stood in the lobby for a moment to regain his composure. He took a slow, deep breath and felt himself relax more as he exhaled and rubbed the still tender spot on his chest where Drake had kneed him and massaged his shoulders to release the tension.

"Mr. Jones?"

Jeff turned in surprise to face the bellman, and then smiled. He remembered how helpful Stu had been when Helen and Georgia were bringing him through the lobby earlier today.

"Yes, Stu?"

Bellman Stuart Foreman held out an envelope to the older teen. "I was asked to deliver this to you."

It was hotel stationary and simply bore Jeff's name in the center of the envelope, written in strict, concise lettering. The bellboy stepped back as Jeff opened the note to give him some privacy. This turned out to be a good thing because if Stu had been within Jeff's reach by the time he'd finished reading the note, he would most likely be sporting a black eye.

"Give me a pen."

The harsh command startled Stu and he nervously handed over the instrument. He retreated to the edge of the oriental area rug as Jeff paced and fumed, formulating a response. After what seemed like forever, the appropriate words came to him and Jeff sat on the edge of the red velvet wing-back chair (the same chair Drake sat in earlier that day), leaning down to use the mahogany coffee table to write his reply. When he was done, he stood up and handed the envelope and pen back to Stu.

"Go give this to that coward, wherever he's hiding."

Stu took the items and noticed that Jeff's name was crossed out and the name _Dante Ebenezer Drake_ was scrawled in its place. He had considered how best to ask for the customary tip from the irate young man before him, but decided he liked how he looked right now and didn't want to risk any injury for a dime, or even a nickel for that matter.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. And have… have a good evening, Mr. Jones." Stu moved quickly to the safety of the front desk before any injury could befall him. By the time he had reached the desk, Jeff was entering the elevator and Stu breathed a sigh of relief.

Ten minutes later, the dark haired gentleman who had given Stu the note approached the desk. "I believe you have a reply for me," he stated in his measured cadence.

"Yes Sir. He replied right away, just as you said he would." Stu handed the envelope to the man. "And he was mad, too, Mr. Drake sir. I didn't think he could be that hard boiled, but I guess you can't always judge a book by its cover."

Drake read the response and smiled darkly. He put the paper back in the envelope and then put that in the left breast pocket of his waistcoat.

"No," he responded dryly, "You most certainly can not." He turned and sauntered toward the front door paused and turned back toward the desk. In one smooth movement he reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a quarter and flipped it in the air at Stu. The young man reached out from behind the desk and caught the shiny coin with a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Drake, sir. Thank you!"

-0-

The two Voyagers enjoyed the next few days as the guests of the American Diving Team. There was no practice on Sunday, so the Voyagers were able to follow the doctor's orders and rest while visiting with the divers. Monday morning Phineas sat beside Coach Cady as the team went through their paces. It was hard for the new coach to sit still, but the head coach made sure the young man stayed put so he wouldn't aggravate his injuries.

"You're obviously a hard-headed young man Phineas since that ruffian didn't kill you with that bash to the head. But I'll not have you hurting yourself just before the Olympics when I need you the most. Now sit _still_."

Phineas watched the older divers with an appreciative and practiced eye. He was impressed with the grace and beauty of the women and the strength of the men, and couldn't believe what Fred could get them to do. But what amazed him the most was little Dorothy Poynton. At thirteen, she was the youngest in the group and could almost out-dive the two team veterans.

Tuesday morning July third dawned bright and beautiful, and was everything Jeff had always heard about the weather in Los Angeles. Dr. Walsh had stopped by along with the head doctor for the entire Olympic team, and released Phineas to 'moderate activity,' to the delight of both the patient and Coach Cady.

Dr. Walsh looked sternly at both men. "When I say 'moderate activity,' I do not mean gold medal worthy dives with flips and twists. You _should have_ been put in the hospital with that concussion, but I let Coach here watch over you and you have recovered quite nicely, though not completely yet. So, I _will_ allow you to dive as long as you keep it simple and take it easy."

Thirty minutes later, Jeff sat by the open window in their room and tinkered once again with the omni, trying to get any kind of reading at all from it. The previous evening he and Phineas had decided that this malfunction had something to do with the open time calibration on Drake's omni.

"It's the only thing that makes any sense," Jeff had grudgingly said after an hour of discussion. "I still don't know what 'open time calibration' means or why it would fry our omni though. God, I just want to wring that bastard's neck!"

Phineas watched his friend work on the omni with a worried expression and thought back over the past few days.

_If the kid's not focused on Georgia, all his attention seemed to be on Drake. Under the circumstances, I guess that's understandable, but…_He rubbed a hand across his face and sighed. _Stop being such a mother hen, Phineas! He's not a twelve year old kid anymore. You gotta let go and let him grow up sometime. You were seventeen once; let him find his feet on this one. He knows he can ask for help, so just let him work it out on his own._

Jeff looked out the window and sighed. Today was the day they had agreed upon and he was no closer to a plan than he was Saturday night when he replied to Drake's note. He glanced over at Bogg, trying to figure out how to keep to his agreement but still let him know what was going on. Jeff turned back to the window and felt his stomach churn with the familiar fear of being completely on his own and fought back tears. He'd mostly mastered his emotions and didn't cry at the drop of a hat like he used to, but whenever he thought about truly being alone there was no stopping them.

The knock on the door startled both Voyagers and Jeff scrambled up to answer it. Diver Mickey Riley was standing there with a grin on his face.

"C'mon fellas, get a wiggle on or you're gonna be late for practice. Coach is gonna cast a kitten if you're late, and you don't want him thinkin' you're a dewdropper, do ya? Cuz if he gets in a lather then your coachin' days are over. I mean, we all think you two are the darb, and I'd hate to have you get the boot for bein' late."

Phineas had reached the door by the time Mickey had finished and he chuckled. "Okay, Mickey, we're comin'."

As they walked down the hall Jeff looked up and the perplexed look on Bogg's face made him grin.

"What's got you more confused: 'cast a kitten,' 'dewdropper' or that we are 'the darb'?"

"Actually," Phineas whispered back, "I'm not so sure I want to 'get a wiggle on.' I mean, I can waltz with the best of them, but I don't wiggle."

They were still laughing when they exited the elevator and walked out to the pool.

When they got to the pool, the divers were all practicing their freestyle dives and Jeff was transfixed as he watched Georgia do things he had only ever dreamed of doing, until Mickey and Harold "Dutch" Smith told him to suit up and get some practice in. It took some cajoling from Phineas and his new friends, along with promises that no one would laugh or criticize him, but Jeff finally changed into a swim suit and got some pointers from the guys while Coaches Cady and Bogg led the girls practice. And more than once, both coaches had to draw Georgia's attention back to her dives instead of what the boys, namely Jeff, were doing.

Phineas couldn't openly watch Jeff dive because the teen would get nervous, but what he did see both he and Coach Cady liked.

"Your nephew has good instincts, Phineas," Fred pointed out after Jeff's successful inward dive. "I can see that he's still sore from what Buddy did to him, but I think he's got potential."

Watching Jeff dive reminded Phineas of his former life as a young pirate, and he remembered how he would dive off the fore Royal Yard- the highest point on the ship- and into the water just to scare the landlubbers who were new to the crew. He'd never been taught, but as athletic as he was, the flips and dives came easily to him. At the crew's urging, he would climb up the mast and dive off from various heights to the delight of all.

Then there were the days out at sea when they'd hit the doldrums: no wind to propel the ship, no movement in the air at all. The crew would get antsy and so they'd swing out a boom with a sail attached to one side and drop the sail into the water, then bring another boom in and attach the other side of the sail, thus creating an 'ocean swimming pool' for those who couldn't swim. It was on those days that his dives would be in demand, much to the chagrin of his captain. He could almost hear Captain Harkness bellowing at him from the quarter deck right now…

"Georgie Porgie!" Fred Cady's roar brought Phineas back to reality in a hurry. "What in the name of a gold medal was _that_? You call that a pike? Your legs looked like noodles. Get out and do it again."

Helen walked over to the coach and put her hand on his shoulder. "Coach, we've been at this non-stop for three hours. Can we _please_ break for lunch or something?"

"You're done when I say you're done, young lady," was his hot reply. "Do you want to win a gold medal or not?"

Phineas shook his head and made a grunting noise, clearly showing his disapproval. Coach Cady glared at his assistant, eyes narrowed and handlebar mustache near quivering on his lip.

"Do you have something to add, Coach Bogg?"

The Voyager ignored the bluster and stood his ground. "I'm not trying to tell you how to train or treat your divers Coach Cady. I was just noticing something in Georgia's approach that could make the difference between winning a medal and no medal at all. Besides a little rest, of course. But if you just want me to be your 'yes man,' then I'll just keep quiet and watch what the men's team can do. But I'm tellin' ya, that little Georgia has got what it takes and from what I've seen, she's better than some of your boys."

"Oh no you don't, young man. I'll not be the fall guy here. This is _my_ team and I'll do whatever I damn well please with them. Pardon me ladies."

Several divers would later recall 'the stand-off' and shiver. Some said they could actually feel the electricity in the air from the two coaches and that the hair on their arms was still standing on end. Each coach had a differing view on how the dive should be performed and neither man would back down. The entire team sat on the pool deck as the drama unfolded, taking advantage of this all too rare break in training. No one was quite sure how or when it happened but before anyone knew it, Coach Phineas was removing his boots and shirt (to the delight of the women) and headed over to the springboard.

"Bogg," Jeff called out, "Remember what the doctor said."

"Georgia, please come here," Phineas replied, ignoring his partner completely. "Come and show me that forward one and a half somersault in the pike position again, please."

The young diver looked from Fred to Phineas, afraid to move. Jeff wanted to go to her, but one look from Bogg told him clearly to stay out of it.

"Go ahead, Georgie. I love proving a man wrong." The coach twirled his handlebar mustache between his thumb and forefinger, a sly smile on his face.

Georgia took to the board and stood next to Coach Phineas. "Yes, Coach?"

"I want you to prepare to dive, but do not complete the jump. Stay on the board."

The diver nodded and then slowly went through the motions of her take off with Coach Phineas giving Coach Cady a brief commentary on her actions. Then he asked her to make the dive, which she did and made a clean entry.

"Now, Coach, if you will watch my take off and entry, see if you can tell the difference between her dive and mine."

Georgia climbed out of the pool and walked over to Jeff who wrapped her in a towel, and they watched as Phineas prepared to dive.

"Bogg, _please_ don't!"

There was a determination in his friend's crystal blue eyes that Jeff hadn't seen in a long time and he backed down. Phineas concentrated and took a slow, deep breath. _This is probably gonna hurt,_ he thought grimly.

"Don't got all day, Mister Bogg," Coach Cady called out.

With one final breath, Phineas made his approach to the end of the board. He leapt into the air and launched off the board with a grace that belied his size. And then to the amazement of all, he performed a forward two and a half somersault in the pike position.

As soon as he started the somersaults, his head began to pound madly. He was bent neatly in half, legs locked straight, toes pointed, arms wrapped around his knees in a perfect pike. The pounding in his head changed to spinning, and Phineas almost over-rotated on the half somersault. But instinct and habit kicked in and he released his legs just in time to straighten out completely just before he entered the water. And that's when the swirling explosion of color and complete disorientation caused him to pass out.

There wasn't a sound from the pool deck as Phineas entered the water. They all knew how to do the dive, but none of them had ever completed it so flawlessly. And then the cheers and applause began. There was so much cheering that no one noticed right away that Phineas hadn't resurfaced.

Jeff broke free from the group of divers surrounding him to go congratulate Bogg when he saw the still form sinking to the bottom of the pool.

"Bogg!"

Jeff and Coach Cady jumped into the pool at almost the same time to rescue their friend. Together they pulled Phineas to the surface and helped him to the side of the pool where several of the men's team pulled him out of the water while Dorothy and Dutch both ran to get the doctor. Jeff scrambled out of the pool and immediately checked Bogg's pulse and breathing, then he and Mickey rolled Phineas onto his side and Coach Cady pounded on his back. They rolled him back again and Jeff was about to start CPR when Bogg started to cough and splutter, coughing up water and breathing as deeply as he could. The divers let out a collective breath, and Georgia knelt beside Jeff to give him a hug.

"I _told_ you not to do it," Jeff said a few minutes later with all the authority of an angry, frightened and relieved parent. He sat beside his mentor and put his hand on Phineas' arm. "You could've killed yourself."

Phineas reached over and gave Jeff's knee a squeeze and nodded slightly, trying to breathe and not make the dizziness or the pain in his side any worse.

"All right you young hooligans, give the man some space!"

The concerned team backed up quickly, not wanting to incur the wrath of their coach. He turned to his assistant and shook his head. "Young man, I don't know what the hell you were thinking, but you've gone and proved me wrong. Ladies and gents," he announced to the group, "Your lunch break will be one hour and a half. Be back at the pool by one o'clock sharp."

A rousing cheer erupted from the group and they all grabbed towels and robes and headed into the locker rooms. Dorothy came back to tell the coach that Dr. Walsh said he would meet them at the room. Fred and Jeff helped Phineas to his feet and took him back upstairs to his room while Fred in turn berated and congratulated his new coach on the dive. Dr. Walsh met them at the door to their room and after a brief exam, gave Phineas a stern warning.

"You're lucky you didn't injure yourself any worse, Phineas. I'm more concerned about your head injury than your ribs at the moment, and I'm telling you now- your head will not heal if you insist on not following my orders. I don't care if the Olympics are tomorrow, you must _not_ engage in physical activity for the rest of the week. Is that clear?"

"As crystal," Phineas replied as he settled down on the bed, reclining on the pillows Jeff had piled up behind him. "I couldn't do anything now, even if I wanted to. Even talking hurts."

The doctor smiled. "Stay in bed the rest of the day and give your body a chance to recover."

Dr. Walsh looked over at Jeff and Coach Cady and lowered his voice, knowing full well Phineas could still hear him. "You know, he was almost healed. I was impressed with his speed of recovery and when I said _moderate activity_," he looked sternly at the coach here, "I was very clear on what he should _not _do. Yet as I understand from Dutch, you _challenged him to prove you wrong _in regards to a non-basic dive?"

Fred Cady could do nothing but swallow his pride and hang his head. He knew he was responsible for Bogg's injury and he felt badly for letting his stubbornness cloud his judgment.

"That's what I thought," Dr. Walsh continued. "With all that jumping and twisting, I think he might have made matters worse for himself. Not too terribly much, mind you, but he's going to wish he hadn't done this."

"He already does," Phineas replied, with a grimace that played at being a smile.

Jeff laughed for both himself and his friend, and walked the doctor and coach out. He came back about ten minutes later hoping Bogg was asleep; it would make leaving so much easier that way.

"You think I'm a pig-headed fool, don't you?" Bogg's voice betrayed the pain he was in, so Jeff sat on a chair beside the bed.

"Where'd you hear _that_ term?"

He smiled ruefully, "Coach."

Jeff chuckled. "It figures." He glanced at Bogg and looked away quickly, hoping his nervousness wasn't obvious. _There has to be a way to tell him without giving it away,_ he thought anxiously. His right leg was practically doing a jig on its own, and his hands were suddenly sweaty. "I think he knows you pretty well. You _can_ be stubborn, ya know."

Bogg smirked and gave a small snort, causing instant pain in his side and he pressed his hand against his ribs. "So I've been told." He sighed as much as his injury would allow and leaned back into the feathery soft pillows, then glanced over at Jeff.

"You don't have to sit up here and babysit me. Go hang out with the kids and relax." Bogg placed his left hand on Jeff's bouncing knee. "Don't worry about me, kid. I'm gonna be fine. All I'm going to do is sleep for a bit, and then I'm sure Coach will be sending people up to check on me. Go spend some time with your _girlfriend_."

Jeff blushed and smiled, looking anywhere but at Phineas. "She's not my girlfriend," he said lamely. _But I wish she was_, he thought.

"Go be a seventeen year old. Go have fun. Between me and a malfunctioning omni, we aren't going anywhere anytime soon so take advantage of our forced 'vacation'. As a matter of fact," Phineas said sternly, "I don't want to see your face inside this room for the rest of the day. Or tonight either for that matter. I overheard the divers talking earlier about having a party tonight since there's no practice tomorrow because of Independence Day, and then the team is going to watch the parade tomorrow and you're invited."

"How do you know that?"

"Because all the girls could talk about was how Georgia would be the only one with a real date."

The teen blushed and Phineas grinned at him. "You never get to just be a regular kid and have fun. And since we helped bring about this nation's independence from England," he smiled as he watched Jeff remember helping General Washington and capturing the spy, "why not go enjoy the fruit of your labor? I'm sure you could probably even spend the night with some of the guys, so you don't even have to come back here. Look at it this way: it's a trial run for when you start at the Academy. I'm still close but you can go do your own thing."

He couldn't believe it was going to be this easy. Relief and guilt flooded through his system like a wave and Jeff smiled nervously. "Thanks, Bogg. But, are you sure you'll be okay?"

Phineas nodded. "I'll be fine. Now go on, get outta here."

Jeff stood to go and looked down at his friend. Concern, guilt and fear played across his face and he forced out a casual sounding laugh. "I'm gonna have the time of my life. Is there anything I can get you before I go?"

Phineas shook his head. "Nope, nothing I need right now. But I will probably want something to eat later."

"I'll make sure you get fed, I promise," Jeff replied lightly.

-0-

It was now twelve forty-five and Jeff doubted his decision to leave as he sat on the pool deck watching the divers prepare for the afternoon practice. It all made perfect sense a few days ago: take two days to lay out a plan that would save Kinyala and have him lead Hans and Ludwig up Mt. Kilimanjaro while Drake would try to prevent Jeff from succeeding. He agreed meet Drake in the alley at one o'clock that afternoon so they could voyage back, and Jeff was forbidden to tell Phineas anything.

_This is your chance to prove yourself a true Voyager, without the help of your precious Phineas. Let's see what Garth's favorite Boy Scout has taught you over the past five years. It's going to be so much fun putting you to shame…_

The scorn and hatred had poured through the letter and enraged the young Voyager so badly that he accepted Drake's challenge without a second thought. He _knew_ he could beat Drake at his own game, and the prize was certainly more than worth the risk.

_If, by some odd chance you succeed in your little venture, I shall surrender my omni to you and you are free to do with me what you will. Don't believe me? I swear on the grave of the great __Niccolò Machiavelli that I will give it to you if you win. __But if __**I**__ succeed, then you will travel with me to a time of my choice where I shall leave you, alone. You must not tell Phineas of our little deal or that you are leaving. If he shows up during our challenge, his consequences will be __**fatal**__._

He was so sure two days ago that he could do this, but now his stomach was tied in knots and he found it difficult to breathe. There was no way he could back out; he had to set history right, and Phineas couldn't travel anyway so if it was going to get done, Jeff needed Drake and his omni to get there and 'save the day'.

And then there was Georgia. Drake had hinted that something dark and sinister may befall her if Jeff didn't take the challenge, and he couldn't let anything happen to her. She was splashing around in the lap pool with Betty and Dorothy and Jeff smiled at her joyful abandon. _I wish I could feel that free,_ he thought as his eyes blurred with tears. Normally he would get angry with himself for being so childish, but he was too nervous to care. The realization of what he was about to do had him by the throat and all he could do was follow wherever it would lead him.

He was startled by Clarita as she walked by ringing a cow bell and shouting. "Five minute warning, everyone! Five minutes!"

Jeff took a deep, shaky breath and stood up. He looked longingly at Georgia, wishing he could tell her that he wasn't leaving her, that he cared deeply for her and would come right back to her, but he couldn't. Bile burned in his throat as he started to realize just how perfectly Drake had baited him and played on his emotions, but he would win this bet and make Drake eat dirt for all his rotten schemes. With one final glance around the pool, Jeff turned and walked to the lobby to meet his fate… or destiny.

-0-

"I must say, I'm rather surprised at your punctuality."

Jeff could feel the disdain in the rogue Voyager's words and wisely held his tongue. He was taking a huge risk trusting this man, and the less opportunity and reason he gave Drake to hate him more, the better. This was going to be hard enough as it was.

"Any last rules of chivalry or conduct we need to review before we leave? I'd hate to be accused of breaking any of your rules." Jeff's tone was as hard and cold as stone and actually surprised Drake.

"Thinking ahead, impressive. Ah, rules, rules, rules. Such a bother, wouldn't you say?" Jeff glared at Drake who gave a wicked laugh. "The rules of conduct are simply this: do what you must to win the game."

"Give me your omni once we've landed."

"And why would I do that," Drake scoffed.

Jeff smiled, "Because I'm the only trustworthy one here."

Drake shook his head. "I'll hold on to the omni, if you don't mind. Now, if you're ready I think we should be off."

There was no avoiding it any longer, and Jeff knew it. He went and stood beside Drake and rested his hand on the man's arm, and an involuntary shiver ran through his body. He watched as his rival set the date and location, and a moment later the alley was empty once more.


	4. On Their Own

_Author's Note~_

_I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter! I had discovered a book about 2 months ago, written by Hans Meyer about the climb and I just _had_ to read it… and in so doing, I had to make some serious changes to the African section of this chapter. There will also be adjustments to dates in previous chapters, since they were written before I found this book and had to guesstimate dates. But I do believe it is all for the best and you will all appreciate the extra effort and time the re-write took._

_I do also want to note that in this chapter, Hans refers to the natives as 'negroes' and comments on how he finds some "with intelligence" and also that his favorite was quite conscientious which was "__a remarkable thing for a negro." _Please _note that this was a direct quote from the book, _Across East African Glaciers_, and that in 1889 this was how many Europeans thought of the African natives, and thus is historically accurate. It is not my intention to offend anyone, so please know I researched this well before adding it in. _

**Chapter 4**

_**Village of Taveta, Tanzania**_

_**Thursday September 19**__**st**__**, 1889**_

The two Voyagers landed hard in the brush surrounding the village and each lay still a moment to catch his breath. The warm afternoon air was not uncomfortable, which surprised the younger Voyager, considering how close they were to the equator. Drake glanced at Jeff who still seemed a bit disoriented, then scrambled up quickly and ran toward the village.

Not wanting to create a time paradox by running into his past self, Drake had chosen the day after he originally left the time zone to begin his challenge with Jeff. As he neared the village, he remembered the discussion he'd had with Meyer at the inn.

_"__I've heard about these native boys who refuse to work for the East Africa Company to build roads and such," _Drake had said the day before over mugs of beer._ "In fact, I believe there are some who might try to play guide to unsuspecting mountaineer's trying to climb Uhuru. And though I can't be certain, I think Chief Merale would rather pawn the tribe's troublesome brat off on you than punish him the way he should be punished." _

It hadn't been easy to convince Hans by strength of words alone to not accept a guide from Cheif Merale, especially since Hans and the chief had a good friendship. But Drake had been determined to avoid traipsing up the mountain with the caravan to the village where Kinyala lived, and in the end his powers of persuasion had prevailed. He _was_ a great lawyer after all, and he was responsible for the convictions of thirty Voyagers- before Mr. Boy Scout and his little side kick ruined it all.

But _this_ time around, he would have join the caravan on the trek to Marangu, as much as the thought of walking for miles in the heat irritated him, but it would be worth it just to make sure Jeff couldn't succeed in his quest to correct history.

Jeff swore as he watched the bushes slow their movement from the abrupt disturbance, jumped up and started running to follow Drake's retreating form. As he ran his thoughts raced along, trying to figure out how to befriend Hans and convince the man to take Kinyala as a guide. His biggest worry was that Drake already knew Hans and he also spoke German, leaving Jeff at a distinct disadvantage. He slowed to a walk as the brush thinned out and tried to organize his thoughts and make a plan of action. Jeff felt the huge weight of historic responsibility sitting on his chest, and he really wished Bogg was here to help him out, but it was now his job to make things right and he had no idea how he was going to do it on his own.

The young Voyager emerged from the jungle and found himself in the same village that he and Phineas had landed in the first time and noticed that things were a bit different. There was another caravan that had taken up residence besides Meyer's, and there was much more activity than before. As he neared the inn, he saw Drake speaking to Hans and then watched as they shook hands as if to seal some sort of agreement. Jeff's stomach burned with a pit of anger as Drake sauntered over and stopped just long enough to whisper something to him before moving on.

"As much as I _loathe_ field work and traveling by foot, I shall enjoy watching you fail."

It took all Jeff's strength to not retaliate- verbally or physically- and he stood rooted to the spot while Drake continued walking away. He took a couple of deep breaths before turning his back on the inn and started walking in the opposite direction from Drake. Jeff passed several groupings of huts with goats and chickens scattered around before something caught his attention. It was a European-looking cottage of sorts, surrounded by some small huts like he had just passed, a garden and a small fence. He didn't know why he headed that way, but something about the small house drew him in. He was met at the gate by some servants who assumed the young American had preceded their master and was part of the most recent caravan to arrive with more American sportsmen. Jeff tried to leave, but Safi wouldn't hear of it and very nearly forced him to stay in the main house for the duration of his stay.

"Misser Chanler expect more friends. He say we take care them. You American. You stay or Safi get beat."

"Okay, okay. I'll stay," Jeff said. "I certainly don't want to get you in trouble."

Safi beamed and ordered Jirana, the other servant, to start a meal for their guest.

Jeff took the opportunity to find out all he could about his "host" and village life. It appeared that many American and European sportsmen had chosen Taveta as their home while hunting big game in the area, so Mr. Chanler's was not the only non-native dwelling in the area. All the foreigners had servants and Jeff learned that beatings were the normal means of punishment for the natives in caravan life as well as for servants. He asked Safi lots of questions about the caravans and was told that Mr. Meyer's caravan had just arrived two days prior on the seventeenth. Safi seemed to pride himself on knowing "everything that went on in the village," and also knew many of the porters who were regulars on the caravan routes. Jeff used this to his advantage and asked to be shown around the various camps the next day.

That evening after a wonderful meal, Jeff took a walk around the village. He saw Kwasi and Elimu talking and drinking with several other men and fought the urge to go talk to them. He had to remind himself that _t__hese_ two hadn't met him yet, and he had to be careful to not be too familiar. He nodded and smiled as he passed and offered the greeting Safi taught him.

"Salamu."

The wide, white-toothed smiles from the black men carried a little surprise at the greeting, since they were merely porters and white men rarely acknowledged them as little more than half-naked beasts of burden. There was a quick discussion and then Elimu called out to Jeff in Swahili. When they were greeted by his utterly confused and slightly nervous look, one of the larger men stood up and beckoned the young man over.

"Good evening, Sir. You are... American?" Jeff nodded as he approached the group of seven, wondering where this was going. He didn't have to wait long to find out as the large black man continued. "I am Ahmed, Somali bodyguard for Herr Meyer's caravan. My friends say you honor us with greeting. Come, join us. We teach you Swahili, you teach them English?"

Elimu thrust a small cup in Jeff's hand and indicated he should drink it. He eyed it warily, remembering the _mbege_ he'd had the first time he'd met them and took a deep breath.

"When in Rome..."

He took a large gulp and didn't choke like last time, but they could see he was unused to the drink. Jeff gave a small cough and then raised the cup as if to toast them and the men cheered heartily. As he bonded with his new friends, Drake stood watched from the shadows with a smug sense of satisfaction.

"Ah Jeffrey, you're making this entirely too easy on me," he said softly. He had Meyer's trust and was making himself as indispensable as possible while Jeff was drinking with the natives, something Drake was sure Herr Meyer would frown upon and could quite possibly keep Jeff from joining the caravan. That realization made him smile and he spoke as if Jeff could hear him.

"I do hope you enjoy staying here in Taveta my dear boy while I once again make sure History is permanently altered."

-0-

Safi came to wake Jeff early the next morning with a glass of what he called 'new milk', a small bowl of some type of porridge and a knowing smile. His temporary master had managed to only have one cup of the _pombe_ the night before, but it was a powerful drink that was known to take down even their best warriors on occasion.

"Drink, Misser Jeff. Then eat a little. Feel better in small while."

Jeff now understood why Phineas had said he wasn't drunk when they'd had the banana beer, or _mbege_ before… this _pombe_ stuff was much stronger and he was really glad he'd only had the one cup. He looked at the milk on his tray warily, but was in no condition to argue and drank a small bit. When he knew it would stay down he drank some more and then was spoon-fed the porridge by Safi. After about twenty minutes he had to admit that he did feel better.

As he was getting dressed, Jirani came to the bedroom door. "Herr Meyer… his men flogged today. Too much _pombe_ last night. But not you. And not Ahmed. He say you strong like Somali. Much likes you."

The two servants showed Jeff around the village and then took him to see the caravan camps. As they went through Herr Meyer's camp, Jeff saw the same group of porters from the night before, along with two or three Somali guards and he waved at them. His two guides were quite distressed when Elimu and Kwasi greeted him by name and Safi glared at the men, irritated that they should talk to his master so casually. Jirani scolded Kwasi in Swahili for being so forward with the American, but Ahmed put a stop to the argument, speaking in English so Jeff would understand.

"Jeff is rafiki (_a friend_) to pagazi (_porters_). He not like other nyeupe watu (_white men_). Is good. We like. Ahmed likes. It is settled."

Kwasi and Elimu had taught Jeff some Swahili the night before, and besides learning 'friend' and 'porter', he also learned that Ahmed was an askari, or soldier who protected the caravan, and was in fact one of Herr Meyer's favorites. It was Ahmed who walked behind Meyer in the caravan, carrying his master's gun, and the men of the caravan loved and respected him. Jeff couldn't have had a better ally.

In fact, Ahmed decided to join the three of them on the tour and introduced Jeff to the rest of the Somali askari, and the porters as well. As they finished the tour, Hans Meyer came out of the inn and started walking in their direction, looking rather irritated. Ahmed excused himself and hurried over to his master and there was a brief but heated discussion that Jeff quickly realized involved him. He suggested to Safi and Jirani that they head back to the house but before he could turn around, Hans and Ahmed were walking towards them.

Ahmed made the introductions and Jeff shook the mountaineer's hand firmly. Hans looked slightly distrustful of this young American, but the young man looked him right in the eye and had a firm handshake. He also spoke highly of Ahmed and didn't seem to see people by skin color or station in life, as shown by the greetings of two porters who passed by. They showed the proper respect to the young man, but there was a familiarity as well that bespoke a camaraderie between them.

"You are quite a bundle of contradictions Mr. Jones," Hans said after he had sized up the young man.

Jeff had seen Drake leave the inn as he was shaking hands with Meyer and suspected he was the reason for Meyer's odd statement at their first meeting. He knew Drake was watching the exchange and so he smiled brightly- just like Phineas- as he replied to Hans' statement.

"Well, Herr Meyer, you seem to have heard about me and it sounds like my reputation is not very complimentary. But in our meeting face to face you appear to have re-evaluated your assessment of my character, to my benefit I might add, and I can safely say that _your_ reputation is still very much intact. You are just as shrewd and observant as has been reported, and a very wise leader to even consider meeting me based simply on your valet's opinion of me."

He wasn't sure who or what had just taken over the speech center of his brain, but the eloquent words served their purpose and Hans roared with laughter and slapped Jeff on the shoulder.

"Auch! Young man you speak with a gifted tongue. I've now heard both good and bad about you, so let us settle this once and for all." He turned back toward the inn and called out to Drake, who had tried unsuccessfully to sneak away.

"Dante, a moment of your time, please!"

Drake approached the small group and immediately launched into a withering tirade against Jeff that had the teen's blood boiling within seconds. Jeff clenched his fists and looked ready for a fight, and Ahmed actually stepped in front of Jeff in a protective stance while the ruckus drew the attention of everyone in the area. Hans' climbing partner, Ludwig Purtscheller came over and along with Hans attempted to calm their irate companion.

"He a juvenile delinquent and I do not trust him any further than I could throw him," Drake seethed, his anger finally subsiding. "He cavorts with the natives and even drinks like them! He's just a filthy American looking to plunder this beautiful country, and prevent you from reaching your goal. He is nothing but trouble."

Jeff couldn't remain silent any longer and blurted out, "You're one to talk, _Geezer_."

He would later recall how odd it was to watch all the color drain from Drake's face, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets and then an instant later see him flush bright red. But if asked to describe how he looked, Jeff would have said Drake was black with anger, with a tinge of humiliation. Seizing the opportunity, Jeff launched his own attack.

"You talk about trust, Dante? I'd say that _you_ are the untrustworthy one here, not me." The two Germans looked at the younger American critically as he continued. "We traveled together to get here, knowing that we both want to join Herr Meyer's caravan. And the moment we arrive you run off and leave me alone so you can find him and be all buddy-buddy and then start badmouthing me. I don't know what your motives are, but if I were Herr Meyer, I'd start to wonder about your integrity, not mine."

Jeff looked directly at Drake and simply said, "The defense rests, your honor."

Ludwig called over Mohammad, another one of the Somali askari and asked him to help Ahmed keep things under control and then led Hans away from the group to speak privately. He had had misgivings about Dante from the moment they had met two days prior and found himself agreeing with Jeff's assessment of the situation. But he knew Hans well enough to know that his faith in Dante would not be so easily shaken. The two friends spoke at length before a decision was made; more of a compromise on Ludwig's part, but still a workable solution.

As they approached the group once more they could see the two adversaries arguing, each being held back by one of the guards. They quickened their pace and didn't hear what Dante said to the young man, but Jeff's reply was very clear.

"Yeah? Well I'd rather work as one of the porters than travel at the head of the caravan with you!"

The look of shock on the faces that understood him would have made Jeff laugh under normal circumstances.

"I think that is an _excellent_ idea, Jeffrey," Drake sneered and turned to Hans. "If you must allow this boy to travel with us, let him work for the privilege of traveling with the great Hans Meyer. What do you think, good sirs?"

It was certainly a most unusual request- natives were the laborers for the Americans and Europeans who traveled throughout Africa, and to have someone of that stature actually request to do that job was unheard of.

Hans looked closely at Dante who held the smug, superior look of one who had the ultimate confidence in his abilities and an equal amount of distain for the youth before him. He had the same self-confidence as Hans did, and had stroked the Germans ego greatly in regards to his discipline of the porters.

'_It is your right to flog them,'_ Dante had said earlier that morning. _'They got drunk and disobeyed you. It is your morality they are snubbing, so your response is acceptable cruel action. Just as the great Machiavelli himself wrote: it is decisive- swift, effective and short-lived.'_

Hans did admire some things Machiavelli had written in _The Prince_, and was glad to have someone agree with him so completely.

He then looked at Jeff, noting the fierce determination in his dark eyes, now nearly black as storm clouds. The youth was well spoken and persuasive just as Dante said he would be, but the way Ahmed stood up for the young American spoke volumes. While many men considered Negroes as little more than 'idiots' and worth nothing more than slaves or beasts of burden as Dante obviously did, Hans Meyer had found a few to be quite intelligent and trustworthy, and Ahmed had his complete faith and trust. He had been with Hans on his last attempt to climb the mountain and had been taken captive with him by one of the warring factions in the area.

If you asked Hans about Ahmed he would say: "_He is my special favorite, the very embodiment of obligingness and readiness. Whatever Ahmed does he does well and- a remarkable thing for a negro- whenever he sees anything that ought to be done, he does without being told." _He had trusted Ahmed's judgment in the past, and knew there had to be something about the American that Dante had missed.

All these thoughts crossed his mind in a second, and Hans now knew what he would do. He stood in front of both men looking very stern, which made the porters very nervous because that was his 'discipline face.'

"Dante, Jeffrey," he addressed each with a nod of his head, "I can see that you both have differing opinions about the trustworthiness of the other, and so I shall put you to the test. Since I have gotten to know Dante over the past few days, he will travel at the head of the caravan with myself and Ludwig."

The looks of shock and victory on the men's faces told Hans he was on the right track. Before anyone could comment, he continued. "And, since Jeffrey has earned the trust and respect of my porters _and_ my personal guard, he shall travel as one of them, under the watchful eyes of the askari, Ahmed's eyes in particular."

Hans would never admit to this, but it was Ahmed's reaction more than anything else that told him he had made a wise decision. The Somali guard had the look of pride and honor, as if a village Chieftain had just offered to walk among his men and carry even just a small burden.

And so it was settled. The men started to prepare for the march to Moji the next day, happily showing Jeff what he would need to do. Safi and Jirani were none too pleased with the situation, fearing a sound beating for letting Jeff go on this crazy adventure, but Ludwig and Hans both promised them that they would explain the odd situation to Mr. Chanler and there would be no repercussions for his two faithful servants.

And so, early the next morning, Jeff and Drake both began a journey that they would never forget.

-oOo-

_**Los Angeles Athletic Club**_

_**Wednesday, July 4**__**th**__**, 1928, 7pm**_

"What do you mean, you can't find him?"

Clarita glanced at Betty before replying. "Just what I said, coach. He didn't show up at the party last night and no one's seen him all day, either."

"Where's Georgia? If you find her you'll-"

Betty stepped forward. "She's in our room crying, coach."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Front desk," a nervous voice called out timidly.

Clarita opened the door and looked at the bellman. "Yes?"

"I, I have a …. a note for Coach Bo..." The note was snatched away and the coach tore it open. Stu took a step back and stammered, "I was, was supposed to deliver it this morning, but things g-got busy and I'm really sorry."

Coach Bogg sat down on the couch and read the note again, the pit in his stomach burning a hole through to the skin.

"Thank you, Stu," Betty said as Clarita went to sit next Coach Bogg. "At least you delivered it. Here," she held out a dime and he took it with a small smile.

"Thank you, Mrs. Pinkston."

Betty started to close the door but Clarita shook her head. "Go get Coach Cady."

Five minutes later the senior diving coach sat beside his new assistant, a worried look on his face. "I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems?"

Phineas stared at the note and shook his head. "It's worse," he whispered as Fred took the note from his shaking hands. "And there's nothing I can do about it."

_Dear Phineas:_

_Your protégé believes he can best me in a Voyagers game of skill. Though he climbs to great heights, his victory will be a cold one. Why? Simply because he chose me over you. He chose me over his new love. He is an idealistic fool… I wonder where he learned that from?_

_Even if he succeeds he will fail. History's win will be his loss. You know as well as I do that Voyagers may perish in the field, and young Mr. Jones may just very well be a causality of war._

Fred sent the girls back to be with Georgia while he stayed with Phineas and tried to help him deal with his missing nephew. Phineas spent a good fifteen minutes ranting and railing against this 'Mr. Drake' and though he didn't quite follow all of what Bogg said about voyages or what Jack the Ripper had to do with things, or even what an 'omni' was- let alone why Jeff would be a _'causality of war'_-Fred realized quickly that Phineas believed Jeff was in very real danger and there seemed to be no way to help the young man.

And then there was Georgia.

Clarita came back to the coach's room around eight thirty to see if there was anything she could tell Georgia about Jeff's whereabouts.

"She's convinced Buddy got out of jail and took Jeff for a drive to bump him off and we'll find him at the bottom of some lake."

Coach Cady patted the diver on the shoulder. "Don't worry your pretty heads about Jeff. Bring Georgie in here so we can talk."

The two coaches quickly came up with something to tell Georgia that wouldn't leave her in a complete panic for Jeff's safety. This also required Phineas to 'get a grip', as Jeff would say, and try not to dwell on what might be happening with his friend and focus on the Olympics and the divers.

They told Georgia that Jeff had been called away suddenly to help with a family emergency, leaving a note for his uncle telling him to stay and help the team since that was his job now. Bogg also told her that Jeff asked him to apologize to her for not even saying good-bye and that he would be waiting to hear all about the Olympics and to see the medals she was going to bring home. She cried as Phineas held her, unaware that he was hurting just as much as she was.

The next morning Coach Cady put the diving teams through their paces for the final time, minus one diver and one coach, before catching the train to New York to take the ship to Amsterdam. At their lunch break Helen and Dorothy went up to their room and finally convinced Georgia to come down and join them. Coach Cady had already dragged Phineas down to the pool about twenty minutes before and when Georgia arrived, he was practicing basic dives off the three meter springboard. She refused to eat and just sat poolside, staring at the ripples Coach Bogg created with his dives until his first less-than-perfect entry caught her attention.

Phineas climbed out of the pool muttering to himself and was surprised to see Georgia standing at the springboard, waiting for him.

"You over rotated on your twist, coach. Here, let me show you."

Georgia scampered up the ladder, prepared for her approach and then did a perfect forward one and a half somersault with one twist. When she surfaced, Coach Bogg nodded his approval and stood on the back of the springboard. Georgia climbed out and watched him perform a back double somersault in the pike position.

This display didn't go unnoticed as they were the only two diving while everyone else was eating. Mickey nudged Dutch and pointed to the pool with his half-eaten sandwich.

"Looks like we got ourselves a bit of a challenge."

"My money's on Coach Bogg," Dutch said.

Helen and Betty had also noticed the two divers and joined the boys as they watched. Betty shook her head at Dutch's comment and frowned.

"Have you _seen_ our little bearcat dive? Or did you miss the practice where Coach Cady announced that he'd finally found a girl who could do the same difficult dives the men do?"

As if to prove Betty's point, Georgia executed a back one and a half somersault, eliciting cheers and whistles from the small gathering of spectators who where now watching the two divers.

"Seems to me she's got _your_ dive down pat, Mickey," Helen said smugly.

Coach Cady stood underneath the ten meter platform and smiled. He knew his instincts had been right with Georgia, but it was nice to see her in action against another diver who was older and more skilled. As Phineas had proved just a few days before, he really was the real McCoy, as the kids would say, and this little sixteen year old girl from Idaho who had only been diving for six months was keeping up with him dive for dive.

Phineas was highly impressed with what Georgia could do, and yet he had just about exhausted his dive repertoire. He watched her climb out of the water, grinning from ear to ear and she flourished her hand toward the board, indicating it was his turn to outdo her. The entire team was now watching in anticipation, wondering what the new coach was going to do next.

He didn't want a repeat of the other day when he knocked himself out, but he needed to end this friendly competition before his headache got any worse. The last thing he wanted was to have Dr. Walsh called in to look at him _again_.

So Coach Bogg now climbed onto the one meter springboard, took a deep breath and walked to the end and turned around so his heels were hanging off the edge of the board. He put his arms out to his sides to balance himself and he heard the buzz of divers trying to decide what he was going to do. From watching the practices, he knew what dives were considered dangerous for 1928, and so he chose the simplest 'dangerous' dive so he wouldn't mess with history too much.

Focusing on the back wall, Phineas started to gently bounce the board without lifting his feet, gathering momentum with each downward push until the fourth one when he launched himself vertically and went into a tuck and completed a double somersault before entering the water straight as an arrow.

When he surfaced, the cheers were thunderous, and Georgia's eyes were just returning to her head. Phineas climbed out of the pool and stuck out his hand to his challenger, and she shook it hard.

"You really know your onions, don'tcha Coach Bogg? Look at the panic you caused just now. That dive was the bee's knees! You've _gotta_ teach us that dive, Coach. You just gotta."

They were now surrounded by the team congratulating both divers with cries of "Attagirl!" and "Attaboy!", and various other phrases that left Bogg's head spinning. When Coach Cady finally waded through the group to stand beside Phineas, he was grinning bigger than any of the divers could remember.

"Phineas my boy, you held out on me the other day. An inward double somersault from the _one meter_ springboard! I don't know how you did it, but you were hitting on all sixes."

The divers all laughed at the slang the coach was using, and Mickey shouted to the group, "Hey fellas, with Coach Bogg showing us how to dive like him, we're all gonna win gold medals!"

Everyone cheered and congratulated Bogg again, and then Coach Cady announced that they all needed to pack up to head off to the train station the next day. The excited chatter of the divers eventually faded as they left the pool area, leaving the two coaches alone on the deck. It was then that Phineas felt the pang of fear as he looked around for Jeff and remembered that he wasn't there. Fred came over and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"I'm sure he's fine, Phineas. He's a smart, strong young man and he wouldn't needlessly put himself in danger."

Bogg nodded and sighed, trying to make himself believe it was true and almost succeeded.

"You're right coach. My kid's got a good head on his shoulders. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm just not used to being on my own without him around."

He smiled at Fred, but the coach noticed that those clear blue eyes were not filled with confidence but worry, and even fear. Keeping him focused on other things was going to prove very difficult, but Coach Cady was going to do everything in his power to keep Phineas from worrying about Jeff. He glanced up at the sky as he put his arm around his friend and prayed he was strong enough for both of them, and that Jeff really wasn't in true danger.


	5. Strength of Character

**Chapter 5**

_**En Route to Moji, Chaggaland, Tanzania**_

_**September 21**__**st**__**, 1889**_

This was by far the hardest and most trying experience of Jeff's life and quite possibly the most annoying of Drake's.

Even though Jeff had asked to be a porter, Ahmed and the others still tried to keep him from working as hard as they did, to the point of only giving him fifteen pounds of gear to start. All the other porters carried between sixty to sixty-five pounds of gear for hours at a time, traversing everything from barren desert to lush forest in their bare feet. Jeff was amazed at their strength and durability, and felt shamefully inadequate in comparison.

And while Jeff kept his complaints to a minimum, Dante made sure everyone knew what he thought of this whole adventure and how he couldn't wait to get back to the civilized world. He complained about the humidity, heat and the quick pace and was very irritable after the first hour and a half of walking through the shaded forest. And then they came to the steppes, or more desert area of the day's march. If Dante had seemed cranky before, he was positively irate after ten minutes out in the sun without the benefit of cover from the trees. Ludwig couldn't understand how Hans was able to tolerate Dante's complaints and for the first of many times that day, he wondered how Dante could have possibly handled the fourteen day trek across the desert wasteland to arrive at Taveta.

They had been walking for about three hours since leaving Taveta when Drake slowed his pace until he was within a few yards of Jeff. The renegade Voyager found his nemesis struggling with a large metal box and started to chuckle when Jeff nearly dropped his box. He watched as Elimu ran over and indicated that Jeff should take off his shirt. He then folded the fabric, placed it on Jeff's right shoulder and then helped him reposition the fifteen pound box on his shoulder. The teen was in obvious pain but doggedly kept walking, sweat running into his eyes and dripping off his chin.

"Honestly, Jeffrey," Drake scoffed at him. "What do you hope to accomplish by working with the laborers? Do you really think this is the way to save Kinyala? By working with the negroes like a slave? I'm _really_ disappointed in you; I'd expected so much more…"

Arali, one of the askari, had been keeping an eye on Jeff as instructed by Ahmed, and the moment the 'mtu kuharibiwa mtoto'_ ('spoiled man-child'_) confronted his charge, he gave a bird-like call that brought Ahmed running, followed closely by Ludwig Purtscheller. Thankfully Hans had found something of interest and had just called for a short stop.

Jeff glared at the older man. "Shut up. At least I'm pulling my weight, you bastard."

Drake ripped the box off Jeff's shoulder and grabbed him by his upper arms. "You'd better watch your mouth or you-"

He was cut short by a sharp pain in his shoulder that forced him to release Jeff and drop to his knees. Dark spots swam before his eyes and then a large, angry black face leaned over him and spoke in Swahili.

"Je, si kutishia rafiki yangu tena. Kama wewe, nami nitawafanya ninyi ungekuwa wafu." _(Do not threaten my friend again. If you do, I will make you wish you were dead.)_

Ahmed knew full well that Dante didn't understand him, but the threat wouldn't have been nearly as powerful if he had used English.

The pagazi started shouting, hoping for a fight, but the moment they saw Ludwig come running towards them they quickly fell silent. He had seen Dante attack Jeff and had to smile as Ahmed once again put his 'persuasion skills' to use. Though he didn't know what the altercation had been about, his feelings of mistrust about Dante were only intensified by the event.

Ludwig stepped forward and spoke to the askari. "Ahmed, hebu nenda naye. Nami kushughulikia hilo." _(Ahmed, let him go. I will handle it.)_

"Yes, Herr Purtscheller." The use of English had been fully intentional and Ahmed glared darkly at Dante as he released the man's shoulder. Ludwig helped him up, quickly leading him back to the head of the entourage.

"I don't know what that was about," Ludwig ground out as he gripped the man by the elbow, "but I _strongly_ suggest you leave young Mr. Jones be, or next time I might let Ahmed deal with you in his own way."

Dante wrenched free of the older man's grasp and glared malevolently at him before catching up to Hans who had stopped to collect some local fauna for examination.

Ludwig took a deep breath before moving forward again. This incident did little to improve his opinion of Dante, and as the journey continued he noticed that the man went out of his way to belittle anyone he felt was below him in station and stayed close to Hans at all times, playing to his pride. There was something very unsavory about Dante, but Hans seemed to trust him so all Ludwig could do was wait to see what would happen next.

And then there was Jeffrey. There was something refreshing about this young man who seemed to have something to prove to Dante, as well as to himself, and Ludwig thought that the wilds of Africa was certainly as good a proving ground as any. Though the teen didn't know it, it was Ludwig who had instructed Ahmed to make sure he wasn't over-worked and had kept a watchful eye on him.

Once Dante had been led away, several of the pagazi and askari decided that 'Bwana Jeff' (_Mr. Jeff_) would march in between the brothers, Kwasi and Elimu for protection. Ahmed helped Jeff pick up his burden and as they started forward once more, he whispered to Jeff.

"Dante no come back. If he do, I protect. You I make safe."

-0-

The caravan marched for three hours across the steppes where the gradual rise in elevation was barely noticed, until they came to the forest once more, and after another hour of travel finally made camp by the river Himo. Everyone was glad for the stop after the six hour tramp in eighty-five degree heat and the cool river was an irresistible for the hot and exhausted porters. They all placed their burdens in a pile and jumped into the running water. Jeff was the last one in as he as he removed his shoes and pants first to keep them dry. Never had cool water felt so good.

Even Drake took advantage of cooling off in the river and as Jeff was walking back to get his clothes he was surprised to see his arch rival engaged in a water fight with Ludwig and Hans. Drake was actually just defending himself against the waves the other two were splashing him with, and at first he was highly irritated. But Ludwig had enough playfulness and exuberance for half the caravan, so it was fairly easy for Drake to momentarily forget himself. After the long hot trek the water was so refreshing that Drake actually started to have _fun_, though it was short-lived.

Jeff, Kwasi and Elimu stood behind some trees watching the three men playing in the water. It was rather unnerving for Jeff to see Drake like this- actually enjoying himself in a playful way and having fun like he and Bogg would if they were having a water fight. He shivered slightly and shook his head, getting curious looks from his friends and he just shrugged.

"It's just strange to see Dante having fun like we did earlier. As long as I've known him I've never seen a real smile on his face. He's always so serious and nasty."

Kwasi looked a little confused. "Nah-stee? What is nah-stee?"

"Nasty… umm, mean? Not nice?"

"Ah… nah-stee is not nice." Kwasi's face lit up in a large smile and looked at his brother. "Kutembea katika jangwa leo hakuwa nah-stee!" (_Walking through the desert today was nasty!) _ Both of them started to snicker as Elimu provided the translation for Jeff, who agreed whole-heartedly.

Both Voyagers slept hard that night, and Jeff didn't even mind sleeping out in the open with the pagazi instead of sharing a tent with Ludwig. But morning came, too soon for some, and they were on their way to the 'state' of Moji once more. And from there on to Marangu where Jeff would have one shot at making history right.

They walked for many, many miles along the base of the mountain and had finally come to the south side of the mountain.

"Ah good, good!" Hans clapped Dante on the shoulder. "Here we leave the path and begin our climb."

If Drake had thought the previous day had been rough, today was worse. They had reached a large rib at the base of the mountain on which the tiny 'state' of Moji was situated at about 2,900 feet elevation. And while there was a path that led up to the terrace on which the village sat, it was by no means an easy climb, especially for the porters.

Kwasi had spoken to Ahmed earlier and it was decided that Jeff would not carry his box, but instead he would help Hans and Ludwig with their packs and equipment. It was an arrangement Jeff was truly grateful for and didn't question, even if it meant walking behind Drake and listening to him complain and make derisive remarks in his general direction. It was slow going, and not without a few mishaps; the pagazi struggled greatly with their burdens, and even Ludwig and Hans tripped more than once.

They were part way up the mountain path with a long drop to the ravine below when Drake stumbled over a root. He started to fall forward and reached out to Hans to steady himself but he stepped on the edge of the path to his right causing him to flail for balance.

Jeff had been talking to Mohammed, another askari guard, when he saw Drake stumble. _God, I hope he falls,_ Jeff thought and then instantly regretted it when he realized that his 'wish' was about to come true. He threw down the backpack and sleeping bags he was carrying and dove to grab his rival just as the loose rock and dirt gave way under Drake's feet and he dropped from sight.

It was an awkward moment- Drake scrabbling against the side of the mountain and Jeff above him on the narrow path, stretched out over the side grasping Drake's left wrist with both hands while Mohammed held onto Jeff's legs - and when Drake looked up at his rescuer he nearly let go of Jeff's hand from the shock.

"Hang on, damn it!" Jeff barked.

The older Voyager clenched his left hand around Jeff's left wrist and grasped his forearm with his right hand.

Both men were vaguely aware of the clamor around them as their eyes and hands were locked together, muscles straining with effort. Jeff was just as shocked by this rescue attempt as Drake was. He tightened his grip and pointed to his left with his head.

"There's a hand-hold to your right. Grab it."

He didn't move, but stared up at Jeff, eyes filled with fear.

"Drake, I need your help. I can't do this alone."

The desperate tone cut through the fear and Drake cautiously let go of Jeff's arm.

"I can't find it…"

"It's right there," Jeff exploded. "Grab it or we're both in serious trouble."

"Dante, es ist ungefähr ein Fuß an Ihrer rechten Seite, und es gibt eine dicke Wurzel dort ebenso." _(Dante, it's about a foot to your right, and there is a thick root there as well.)_

The voice belonged to Hans Meyer who was now lying on the path just above Jeff. He and Ludwig had quickly pulled out some of their climbing gear and Ludwig was preparing to climb down beside their companion while Ahmed joined Mohammad in supporting Jeff and Dante.

The language change startled him and Drake finally found the hold. By this time, Ludwig was harnessed up and the porters started to lower him over the side.

Jeff's back and arms were screaming in pain but he refused to give in. Hands damp with sweat, he could feel Drake slowly slipping from his grasp so he grabbed Drake's left forearm near the elbow. He could feel the fear radiating off the Voyager in waves and he had the strangest compulsion to offer some reassurance.

"Dante, I'm not going to let you fall."

Drake looked up at him with a curious mix of appreciation, confusion and disdain, and it seemed like he was about to make one of his withering remarks, but just as quickly as it appeared the look was gone.

"Thanks," came the strained reply.

As Ludwig was being lowered down, Hans counseled him to speak German.

"Halten Sie Dante fest, ich bin fast dort." (_Hold on Dante, I'm almost there.)_

It was another long minute before Ludwig was beside Dante and had secured a rope around his waist. Jeff wasn't sure he could hold on much longer. He was trembling with the effort to keep hold of his foe as Drake's fingers dug into the tender skin on the inside of his arm.

"Ludwig… hurry,"

"I have him," Ludwig's voice was calm but forceful, "but do not let go yet or you will cramp severely. Release your right hand. Good, good." He supported more of Dante's weight and shouted up to the porters to pull the rope once, bringing them closer to Jeff and relieving some of the tension on the young man's body. He spoke calmly and quietly to both men for about a minute before suggesting that Jeff slowly let go of his charge.

Hans supervised from above, ordering the men to slowly bring Jeff upright while the porters pulled the other two to safety.

Jeff lay on the path taking great heaving breaths of air to fill his burning lungs while Mohammad massaged his right arm and Ahmed started to tend to the wounds from Dante's grip. Hans helped Dante move to the back of the path and let him lean against the secure, solid wall of the mountain to catch his breath and recover. The caravan took advantage of the small break and the men talked amongst themselves about the incident, describing it to those who were further back and hadn't witnessed 'Bwana Jeff' rescue the one who hated him.

A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions washed over both Voyagers as they processed what had just happened. Drake glanced over at Jeff as Hans tended to him, and he felt his body flood with a feeling that was highly unfamiliar to him: gratitude. His throat constricted as the weight of the situation and the unselfish act of kindness from one he would not have bothered to save crashed down on him. He drew in a gasping breath and his chest tightened as emotions the size of the mountain they were climbing took control and raged through him.

Meanwhile, tears mingled with the sweat that ran down Jeff's face, as much from the stress and strain of the ordeal as it was an emotional release. One prominent thought raced through his mind, confusing and frustrating him. It was making him feel physically ill, but there was still no answer to the question.

_Why did I save him? Why?_

_-0-_

The caravan finished the climb and came to a barricaded gateway, halting further progress. Once the guards allowed them through, they announced their arrival to the village with the standard salute of a volley from the guns. There was a bit more of a climb upwards before they reached the English Mission station. The white men stayed there to visit with the missionaries while the askari and pagazi climbed an additional five hundred feet more to get to the station of the German East African Company.

When Hans, Ludwig and the others climbed to the upper station a while later, Hans was pleased to discover that the American sportsman, Mr. Chanler, had arrived a few hours before them after a long and semi-successful big game hunt. Many of their porters knew each other and there were joyful greetings and reunions that lasted well into the night. In the midst of all the greetings, Hans and Ludwig both made a point to tell the American (who was roughly twenty-three) that his two servants had taken good care of Jeffrey while he was in Taveta and that the young man would continue his travels with the German caravan.

The prerequisite stop in Moji lasted from September twenty-second to the twenty-fifth and both Voyagers were beyond grateful for the rest. For the duration of their stay, Ludwig made sure Jeff was housed in a tent and not out in the open with the natives, and was quite surprised when Dante didn't offer any resistance. After a small meal shortly after their arrival on the twenty-second, both Jeff and Drake crawled into the first available tent and slept from early evening well into the next morning.

It was nearly nine in the morning when Drake left his tent in search of Hans and some food. He was quiet and reserved all day, sulking about the village and though hungry, he barely ate whatever was offered to him at meals. Hans was greatly concerned but Ludwig assuaged some of his friend's worries and convinced him that Dante was simply dealing with the after affects of his fall, and quite possibly trying to sort out why Jeff of all people would come to his rescue. Hans readily agreed and the two men spent a few hours in discussion about their newest companions.

Fear and anxiety had been Drake's constant companions since his near-death experience the day before and he was not used to feeling so completely out of control. And the more intense the feelings got the angrier he became until he finally stormed off after dinner and went for a walk into the jungle.

There were so many thoughts and emotions trying to escape at once that at one point he stood in the middle of a small clearing, faced the towering mountain peak before him and bellowed, scaring a flock of birds from their evening roost. He stood there, breathing as if he had just run a race, fists and teeth clenched, and quaking in anger.

"I am _not_ weak! I have no fear," he shouted at the mountain. "I am Dante Ebenezer Drake. I was a contemporary of the illustrious Niccolò Machiavelli. I was his very best student. I suffered along side him for crimes against the State which he did _not_ commit." He rubbed his left shoulder gently and then looked down at his wrist. "I still bear the scars of torture…"

But instead of seeing the faded scars from the rope burns so many years ago, Drake was staring at the red welts and imprints of fingers on his wrist and forearm. He remembered seeing Jeff above him, desperately holding on and his words filled Drake's head once more.

"_Dante, I'm not going to let you fall." _

The gentleness and genuine concern had radiated from the young Voyager and Drake was both touched and disgusted at the same time. The 'irritating compassion' he so often derided Phineas for showing had been lavished upon him and that completely confused and angered him. He wanted to hate Jeff for saving him, to mock him for being afraid of being stranded in this time zone forever, cut off from Bogg and Voyagers and everything else he knew.

"The brat should have let me fall. The only reason he saved me was because I represent his only way back."

He was not shouting now, but even as he said the words, as much as he wanted to believe the statement with every fiber in his being he knew it wasn't true. Jeff had learned his life lessons from Phineas very well, and Drake had to grudgingly admit that for once, the 'stupid boy scout routine' had actually worked in his favor.

_But you never show compassion for your enemy,_ his soul cried in a desperate attempt to keep hold of everything that made Drake the most feared and hated Voyager ever. _You wouldn't have tried to save him…_

-0-

Jeff spent the day discovering the wonders of village life and enjoyed learning more than he could possibly retain. Elimu and Kwasi took great pride in showing him around the village and introducing him to other pagazi from Mr. Chanler's caravan. Hans even allowed Jeff to accompany them to meet Chief Mandara and ask for permission to cross his land to climb the mountain.

The old battle-worn chief reclined on his bed and Jeff noticed he had but one eye as he presented the chief with silk coverlets for his bed, one of the many gifts that were brought as 'payment' to pass through the land. There was also red and blue cloth, steel files and knives, a European suit, and a small telephone.

"It's really a bribe," Ludwig whispered to him as they left the 'palace' which was a rather large quadrangular building on one of the lower levels of the mountain. "It makes the chiefs feel important to have European items, and the more useless it is to them, the more they like it."

Jeff chuckled. "Like the telephone?"

Ludwig nodded. "Yes. Like the telephone. If no other chief has one, then Mandara is very important indeed."

After dinner Hans took Jeff with him to find some plant and bug specimens for his growing collection. Ahmed followed at a short distance, always keeping a watchful eye on his master. They came to a small clearing and split up to chase some butterflies that were flitting by. Jeff had just caught the largest butterfly he'd ever seen when he heard Ahmed shout from behind him.

"Bwana Meyer, Bwana Jeff, Uhuru shows his beauty!"

Both men turned toward the peak and indeed Mount Kilimanjaro had unveiled himself in all his kingly glory. As Hans later described it in his book, _'Across East African Glaciers'_:

_A more sublime spectacle could not be imagined than that on which we gazed entranced, as, that evening, the clouds parted and the mountain stood revealed in all its proud serenity. The south-west side of the great ice-dome blushed red in the splendor of the setting sun, while farther to the east the snows of the summit lay in deep-blue shadow. Here and there the glistening, mysterious mantel was pierced by jagged points of dark-brown rock, as spots fleck the ermine of a king. And surely never a monarch wore his royal robe more royally than this monarch of African mountains, Kilimanjaro. His foot rests on a carpet of velvety turf, and through the dark-green forest the steps of his throne reach downward to the earth, where man stands awestruck before the glory of his majesty._

_Art may have colours rich enough to fix one moment of this dazzling splendour, but neither brush nor pen can portray the unceasing play of colour- the wondrous purples of the summit deepening as the Alpine afterglow; the dull greens of the forest and the sepia shadows in the ravines and hollows, growing ever darker as evening steals on apace; and last, the gradual fading away of all, as the sun sets, and over everything spreads the grey cloud-curtain of the night. It is not a picture, but a pageant- a king goes to his rest._

No one who witnessed it was untouched by the sight, from the oldest porter on his fifth caravan to the mountain, to the guards to even Drake himself.

He had heard a voice somewhere nearby calling out to look up at the peak of Uhuru, and when he turned around Drake was greeted by the most spectacular sight he had ever beheld: the sunset on Kilimanjaro. There were no words to describe the epic grandeur of the colors and hues, or the simple sheer beauty. Drake tried to close his heart and mind to the intensity of it all. He nearly shook with the effort to deny the emotions the spectacle created in him but something in the mountain's strength and majesty simply tore through to his soul, and he stood there transfixed.

For the first time in his life Dante E. Drake, the self assured, arrogant, self-righteous renegade Voyager wasn't sure how to crush the unfamiliar feelings that were causing him so much conflict.

It had been little more than twenty-four hours since the event on the mountain path, and neither Voyager was ready to deal with the thoughts and emotions swirling inside of them. But the stunning spectacle they had both just witnessed shone its light onto every corner of their souls, leaving both men feeling exposed and yet somehow, strangely soothed.

They stood rooted to their respective spots, unable to tear their eyes away from the beauty of it all as the colors faded with the waning light. Hans left Jeff alone with his thoughts, but instructed Ahmed to keep an eye on him and headed back to camp. It was a few more minutes before Jeff was willing to release Uhuru from his gaze and glanced around the now dusky field. When he didn't see Hans right away, he started to panic because he didn't know the way back to camp, but then saw Ahmed waving his arms at the edge of the clearing.

They didn't speak as the askari led Jeff back toward the village, allowing the teen to contemplate what he had witnessed. He was so preoccupied that he nearly ran into his guide who had stopped by a large tree and was peering into a very small clearing. Ahmed put his hand on Jeff's mouth and pointed to what he was watching.

Drake was standing there, staring up at the mountain peak that was now swathed in a cottony mist. As Jeff looked at Drake in the fast fading light he saw another glimpse of a man he had never thought existed before this voyage; a man who could still find beauty in a sunset or have a water fight with friends.

At that moment Drake turned to go and saw Jeff watching him. He stiffened and looked annoyed- a very familiar look that Jeff knew well- and then gave the teen a slight nod, turned on his heel and walked away.

-0-

Jeff followed a short distance behind and when he got back to camp he immediately went in search of Ludwig. He found him in his tent and told the older man what had happened a few minutes before with Dante, and even opened up a little bit about how he felt in regards to what happened the day before. When he was done, Ludwig gave him a reassuring smile.

"Uhuru has a way of changing people, Jeffrey. The natives have very strong beliefs in the mysticism of the mountain, and I daresay that if you asked Elimu or Kwasi about it, they would say that the mountain was speaking to Dante and trying to make him less... nah-stee."

Jeff nearly choked on the laugh that escaped his throat at the last word, uttered in perfect mimicry of the two porters. The 'new' word had spread like wildfire among the pagazi and was used quite regularly, especially in reference to the climb.

"You could be right," Jeff agreed after he regained his composure. "But if yesterday didn't do the trick, then I think he might be a lost cause."

Ludwig shook his head. "Don't give up on him too quickly, young man. Some people are slower to learn or accept change than others." He patted Jeff's knee, his eyes twinkling. "I have not been impressed with this hochmütiger dummkopf _(haughty fool)_ and yet I believe there is still a chance for him to see the error of his ways."

With that final statement he stood up and walked out of the tent, leaving Jeff to wonder at its meaning.


	6. Tests and Trials Olympic or Otherwise

_Readers~_

_Thank you for your continued support and patience as I slowly get these chapters out to you. I love your comments, so PLEASE keep reviewing! It makes me so happy to see your reviews, thank you. :) And, because the rules of the Challenge set forth by Spencerthekat said I could, a very special OC makes an appearance here. I hope his namesake approves. ;)  
_

**CHAPTER 6**

_**Amsterdam, the Netherlands**_

_**Friday, August 3**__**rd**__**, 1928**_

The entire American Olympic team was tired of the ocean. Their accommodation during the Olympics was the ship they sailed in on so they were always on the water and had trouble acquiring their 'land legs,' which was especially hard on the track team. Besides that, each stateroom had four berths with barely enough space for two people to stand in the room, so things were quite cramped. Not even the formidable Coach Cady could sway the Olympic Committee to allow the Americans to stay in a hotel.

The ship was docked in the canal, and as boys track coach Normal C. Hayhurst described it for the Glendale News-Press when they returned home, "The canal at Amsterdam where the boat was anchored is a narrow affair and all of the sewage from the surrounding cities is dumped into it. Mixed with the smell of the semi-stagnant salt water the odor is terrible. It is enough in itself to ruin a team."

The stay wasn't quite so hard on Phineas, since it harkened back to his pirate days, but he could see the ill effects it had on all the athletes who were forced to stay aboard, and on more than one occasion he was a conspirator with Hayhurst to get the various teams off the ship and into town.

Even getting a chance to get off the ship and get in some training was difficult for the Olympians, but with some muscle and bluster, Coach Cady and a few other coaches were able to bully lower ranking officials into letting them get in some extra practice time. On this particular day, the diving and track teams gladly suffered the twenty minute launch ride to shore, trying hard to not breathe too deeply as they passed over raw sewage.

Once they made it to the pool site the divers set to work, maximizing what little time they had. Two hours wasn't much, but if it meant fresh air and a pool with chlorine and not salt water, they would take it. Coach Cady worked with the men while Coach Bogg put the women through their paces. When the allotted two hours was up and the Olympic official didn't come to get them, they decided to run through some of their free style dives. They alternated men and women; first Mickey dove, and then Helen, and so forth and the coaches stood back and watched the friendly rivalry take flight.

"The compulsory dives are what you suffer to get to the free dives," Fred told Phineas as they watched the team having fun.

Phineas nodded as Pete Dejardines completed a forward double somersault from the three meter board.

"Okay ladies," the young man said with a cocky smile as he climbed out of the pool, "beat that."

They had been pretty evenly matched dive for dive up to that point, but now the gauntlet had been thrown down. Whatever dive was chosen, the next diver had to up the difficulty level or lose a point to the opposing team, which meant that the women's team had to perform a two and a half somersault to beat the men. And no woman had yet perfected a forward two and a half somersault, though a few had come close. Mickey glared at Pete in obvious irritation and walked away from his friend while the women's team huddled together to decide what to do.

"C'mon girls, just forfeit the dive," Pete called out, eliciting a punch in the arm from Dutch.

Dorothy turned around, eyes blazing. "Oh just dry up you 'ole palooka!"

The boys roared with laughter and Pete turned bright red as Walter pointed out, "Pete the Palooka just got the high hat from a thirteen year old!"

The laughter died down when Georgia Coleman stepped forward and walked over to the diving board with a nervous grin. "_Two and a half_ somersault from the _one_ meter board," she said.

There was what could only be described as a shock wave that hit the group and no one spoke for a full five seconds. Coach Cady was the first to recover and he met her at the board.

"Young lady, I'll not have you risking your health or an Olympic medal on something as stupid and inconsequential as a _friendly competition_." he growled and and sent a withering glare at Pete. He then took Georgia's hand in his own and his eyes softened. "At least do it off the three meter board, for me?"

Georgia flashed her biggest, brightest smile, climbed the three steps on the ladder and stood on the back of the diving board. "Oh horsefeathers coach. I'll be fine."

With a wink and a nod she prepared to make the dive and Fred walked back over to Phineas, shaking his head. "She's a little bearcat, I'll tell ya. And she's the only one of my girls that I'd trust to pull off this dive, even from the one meter board."

Phineas felt as if he could hardly breathe through the tension in the air as Georgia took one last deep breath, stood on her toes and ran to the end of the board and launched herself as high as she possibly could. Phineas could hear the men's team count her rotations as she spun in a tight ball and straightened out at the last possible moment, hitting the water with a large splash.

The women's team was in the water before Georgia surfaced, splashing and congratulating the sixteen year old. Walter and Harold both had a hold of Pete, who wasn't much bigger than Georgia, and were carrying him up the ladder to the ten meter platform while Dave, Mickey and Dutch cheered them on. Though he struggled mightily Pete was no match for the two larger men and they unceremoniously threw him into the water.

"Serves you right, you lounge lizard," Mickey crowed as he helped Georgia out of the pool. "Looks like you're all wet for sure now." He looked down at the petite diver and planted a big kiss on her lips.

"Mickey Riley, are you ossified?" Georgia pulled away from him in shock as the group cheered, but the blush in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes told a different story.

Mickey laughed and put his arm around the petite diver. "Does a fella have to be hittin' the hooch to show affection to a pretty girl? You know I don't drink, doll."

Phineas watched the playful flirtation and wondered if Mickey would have been so bold if Jeff had been here.

It had been no secret on the team the Mickey had been carrying a torch for Georgia, but she didn't want to pursue anything until the Olympics were over. And then she'd met Jeff; or more precisely was rescued by Jeff and had fallen for him hard. Mickey had seen the way she looked at her rescuer and knew that all thoughts of him were forgotten. And though he tried to hate Jeff for 'stealing his girl,' Mickey couldn't help but admire him for saving Georgia in spite of being mugged and beaten up by Buddy. But now that Jeff was gone, Mickey tried to reassert his place in Georgia's heart as he scooped her up in his arms, making her giggle with delight.

"I know you don't drink Mickey, but the bank's closed mister. No cash, no checks."

The divers laughed at that, and little Dorothy looked over at Clarita with a big grin. "I'll bet she would've taken cash from Jeff."

Lucky for her, only Clarita and Coach Bogg heard her over the laughter and Clarita quickly silenced the young teen with a whispered warning in her ear. Dorothy's face turned bright red and she dashed from the group to sit on a lounge chair. Clarita started after her but Phineas held up his hand and shook his head, and then followed her himself. He sat down beside the stricken teen, unsure of where to start. He knew how to handle thirteen year old boys, but a young girl was a bit more of a challenge.

"You gonna take me off the team for impropriety, coach?"

The quiver in her voice coupled with slumped shoulders and head hanging in shame just about broke Bogg's heart, and he gently placed his hand upon her knee. "Now Dorothy, why would I go and do a thing like that?"

"Because Claire told me what I said wasn't proper. She said that it's not my place to talk about who Georgia will or won't kiss, especially now that Jeff isn't here and she misses him so much."

Phineas flushed at the mention of Jeff and unconsciously put his hand over the omni residing in his pants pocket. Dorothy didn't notice his discomfort and kept right on talking.

"She said if he'd heard me I coulda hurt Mickey's feelings 'cuz he likes Georgia, too. Oh coach, I'm so balled up right now!" And she promptly burst into tears.

Bogg glanced around to see if the other divers had noticed them, but he didn't have to worry. Mickey and Dutch had picked Georgia up by this time and were parading her around the diving boards and the back of the pool deck on their shoulders and the girls were ganging up on Pete trying to make him bow before the 'Queen of Diving.'

"Dorothy, Dorothy look at me," Phineas said quietly. "I'm not gonna take you off the team for an innocent mistake. I mean, honestly. If I lost my job every time I said something without thinking, I'd never work another day in my life. And believe me, my mistakes are far worse than 'who's kissing who.'"

She looked up at him with teary eyes and he softly brushed the tears away with his thumb. He could tell she wanted to believe him but figured he was just trying to make her feel better, so he took a deep breath and launched into numerous examples of where he had spoken without thinking. Dorothy's eyes almost popped out of her head when he told her about the time he and Jeff worked with Babe Ruth in New York and what he had said regarding 'America's Pastime.'"

"It's _**only**_ baseball? How could you say such a thing coach?"

Phineas had to laugh and held his hands up in surrender. "Believe me, Jeff still teases me about that one. I'm just lucky the Babe didn't hear me say it. Baseball just wasn't important in my family, so I didn't think my job coaching him was that important. But wait until you hear _this_ one!"

Within minutes he had Dorothy giggling at more of his faux pas and he smiled with relief as he gave her a quick hug. "See? Even adults can say dumb things. Now, don't you feel better?"

"I sure do, coach. Thanks."

Dorothy stood up and rejoined the divers, who were now doing all sorts of crazy acrobatic dives, solo or in tandem, from the ten meter platform. As soon as she left, coach Cady came and sat down beside his assistant with a smile.

"You certainly have a way with the ladies, young man," and he laughed at Phineas' shocked expression. "Betty told me what happened and I'm very glad to see that you've obviously taken care of it."

"I guess I did," Phineas said as he watched Dorothy do a swan dive. "She's a good kid, and I know she didn't mean anything by it. Although I'm still trying to figure out what banks and cash have to do with kissing."

The genuine confusion in Bogg's bright blue eyes made Fred chuckle. "Son, I don't follow half of the lingo nowadays, but I _can_ tell you this; if you want cash, that's a kiss now. A check is a kiss later. And if the bank's closed…?"

"Ah, I get it," Phineas exclaimed. "If the bank is closed, you're just outta luck cuz you're not getting nuthin'."

"Attaboy!"

The sharp shriek of a hand held whistle startled the group and a man wearing an official Olympic uniform- white panama hat, tan blazer with white shirt and blue tie and navy slacks- strode onto the pool deck.

"Practice was over at two o'clock," he stated in his clipped accent, "and it is now two forty-five. Please gather your things and prepare to go back to your ship."

The collective groan from the divers received little more than a raised eyebrow from the official and the team slowly headed out.

Word of Georgia's spectacular dive spread like wildfire throughout the ship and at dinner that night she was the star of the show, regaling the women's track and field and swim teams with her fourth telling of how she bested Pete DesJardines. Fencer Marion Lloyd had joined the group and she was delighted.

"It's about time Pete was put in his place," she chortled, "and by the likes of a sixteen year old girl no less. Georgie, I'm so very proud of you!"

The girls applauded and the teen blushed at the praise. Talk soon turned to family back home and Betty got a wistful look, eyes misting with tears. Helen was the first to notice and she gave her friend a hug.

"I know you miss the twins, Elizabeth, but I'm sure they're doing fine with their daddy and grandparents. Oh honey, don't cry."

"I'm sorry for spoiling all the fun," Betty sniffled. "It's just that I'm going to miss their second birthday on the eleventh and I just miss them so much."

"Hey, I've got a swell idea," Dorothy piped up. "How about we have a birthday party for them here on the ship?"

They all cheered and the women set about making plans for the party, drawing curious stares from other Olympians. Walter and Pete sauntered by and were roped into helping before they could bat an eye while the various coaches sat at their table and nodded their approval.

"It's good to see them taking care of each other," Coach Hayhurst said as a few members of the track team joined in the preparations. "That's what makes a good, strong team. You lift each other up when one is down and face adversity with arms linked, charging forward into the fray."

He pulled out a cigar from his left breast pocket and all the coaches stood up to head out onto the main deck to smoke and chat. Phineas was the last to get up and he felt the now-familiar pang of fear and worry spiral out from the center of his heart and settle in his belly like a square knot as he followed the rest of the men to the deck.

Gymnastics coach Roy Moore noticed the melancholy that had settled on the assistant diving coach and walked over to the young man who was leaning on the railing, playing with his broken heirloom pocket watch and looking forlornly out to sea.

"Everything all right, son," Roy asked as he held a kerchief to his nose to try and block out the scent of sewage that surrounded them.

Phineas slid the omni back into his pants pocket as he glanced over at Roy and shrugged.

"I was just thinking about what Normal said back at the table, you know, about taking care of each other and being a team. And it really hit home." He paused and ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to quell his swirling emotions before continuing. "Jeff and I, well, we have always considered ourselves a team. Ever since he came into my care, we've been there for each other and 'faced adversity with arms linked, charging into the fray' just like Hayhurst said. He's never kept secrets from me, and has never abandoned me before. Not like this."

Phineas was more worried about Jeff than he let anyone know, and it also didn't help that the Omni _still_ wasn't working. Although, last week while he was cleaning the device for what seemed the twenty-fifth time, he was able to get a brief tiny glimmer from each of the lights. So he did hold onto a faint hope that he could eventually get it working again, but the waiting was agonizing.

"Kids nowadays can do some pretty crazy things," Roy replied cautiously as he leaned on the railing as Phineas was, supporting his weight on his forearms. He was good friends with Fred Cady so he knew about Jeff and his sudden departure, and had figured that the young coach was worried about his nephew. But Fred had also secretly confided in him that Jeff wasn't off 'helping with a family emergency' and that Phineas suspected something far more sinister had happened based on the note that was left by Mr. Drake.

There was a comfortable silence as the men watched some yellow tug boats move a barge into the bay. After a few minutes, Roy decided he'd had enough of the cat and mouse game and decided to play his hand.

"Look, Phin, I know that this seems out of character for him. But if I've learned anything in all the years I've worked around teenagers, it's that there are times when they simply need to test their own wings and fly solo. Sometimes they'll do it on their own, and sometimes they are _pushed_ into it."

Bogg stared at his fellow coach in shock, hearing the unspoken words behind the last part of the statement. Roy _knew_. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, but had an odd sense of relief at the same time.

Roy placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Fred and I are the only ones who know, and your secret is safe. He came to me because he knows you're holding something back and frankly we're both very concerned for both you and your nephew. And," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the rest of the coaches, "since those stogie smokin' palookas will be wrapped up in their bull session for a while, why don't you tell me what's eating you, Phin. I'd like to help if I can."

He was surprised by the look of relief and the genuine smile that Phineas gave him as the young man grasped his hand firmly. "I would appreciate that, coach. More than you know. I think I've just about talked Fred's ears off about this."

"More than _you_ know," Roy chuckled. "Now, level with me son. Who is this Mr. Drake and why would he threaten Jeff's life?"

-0-

His talk with Roy had helped him tremendously, and when Fred had come to join them, Bogg decided to share a bit of his background with Drake while trying not to expose who he really was and how he and Jeff got there in the first place. The men were so appalled at Drake's actions and his multiple attempts on the lives of Phineas and Jeff, that time travel was easily avoided. He was also finally able to admit that it wasn't Buddy who had attacked him in the alley the day Jeff rescued Georgia, and Fred smiled.

"I knew that scallywag was capable of such a thing, but something about the whole story didn't seem quite right. That's why I was so leery of the two of you at first. But then you proved your trustworthiness and I hoped that you would in turn have enough faith in me to share the truth. I know this has been hard for you, Phineas, but we're here for you. And if this Mr. Drake of yours shows his cowardly face around here," the former circus strong man punched his hand with his fist, leaving no doubt as to his meaning.

The next week was a blur of activity that kept Phineas extremely busy. The divers got in some last minute training over the weekend and on Monday, August 6th the men's diving team began their competition. This first day of competition was Fancy Diving from the one meter and three meter springboards and was divided into three heats. Pete was in the first heat and performed flawlessly, earning the highest score for his heat and moving him into the finals. Mickey won the second heat and Harold won the third, so there was much celebrating on the ship that night.

They had the following day off and on Wednesday the divers made the smelly trek across the canal for the men's three meter final.

"I can't wait until we don't have to do this anymore," Dorothy said as she held her nose against the stench.

Helen smiled at her. "We've only got three more days, then closing ceremonies, honey. It's almost over."

Phineas had a hard time keeping Fred calm as his divers did their compulsory dives. By the end of that round the three Americans and Egyptian diver Farid Simaika were first through fourth in the standings. They were now moving on to the freestyle dives and the men were 'performing on all sixes' according to Coach Cady, but it was by no means a done deal. Pete was up next and his first dive was announced over the loudspeaker.

"Mr. Peter Desjardins, United States. Two and a half running forward somersault, one meter board."

No one in the crowd understood why this particular dive elicited such shock from the American team, or why Peter seemed to point at one of the women divers before preparing to make his dive.

The two coaches could barely contain themselves as they thought back to the previous week when Georgia performed that very same dive in response to Pete's challenge, causing Pete more than a little embarrassment and giving Phineas a chance to help bolster the young man's confidence.

"_I knew she'd been practicing that on the three meter board, but I never expected her to pull it off on the one meter."_

_Phineas clasped the younger man's shoulder and smiled. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Pete. Just look at it this way; she almost didn't make it. Did you see the splash she made? Not as clean as yours would have been." His eyes twinkled with mischief and he inclined his head slightly. _

_Pete smiled widely. "Yeah, Coach Bogg, I can do better than that. Thanks coach. Thanks a lot!"_

_As the young diver walked away, Fred came back and stood beside his assistant. "Didn't I tell you she has what it takes?" He was so excited he could barely contain himself and slapped Phineas on the back. "That little girl just proved she's as good as any male diver out there."_

"_You'll get no argument from me, coach," Phineas replied. "But now I'm a bit worried about Pete."_

"_Worried? Just what are you getting at, son?"_

"_Well, he was just beaten by a girl who is five years his junior and has only been diving for six months. How do you think he feels?" _

_Phineas had chosen his words carefully and quickly continued before Fred could comment._

"_But I pointed out to him how Georgia almost didn't make it out of the half somersault before hitting the water…"_

_There was a glint in the younger coach's eyes that didn't match the serious tone of his voice and it took Fred a moment to realize what Bogg was insinuating. _

"_What the hell do you mean? Her dive was as near perf- oh my boy, you slay me!" _

_Phineas hadn't heard Fred laugh like that in weeks and he was pleased to know he'd done the right thing with Pete. "You're a sly devil, Phineas, a sly devil indeed. You know damn good and well that she was as near perfect as any woman has come to making that dive. And had it been in competition, she would have been scored with at least eights for sure." _

_Now Bogg laughed along with Fred. "Yeah, I know that, and you know that, but if it gets Pete to practice more it just might make the difference in what medal he earns."_

Georgia scooted over to Coach Bogg and clasped his hand, blue eyes conveying both excitement and fear. Pete was currently in first place, but one mistake could cost him the lead.

The crowd grew still and all eyes were on Pete Desjardins. The sun glinted off his blond hair as he focused on the end of the board, took a deep breath and stood on his toes. He then ran forward, jumped on the end of the springboard and leapt high into the air, tucking into a tight ball. He completed the two and a half somersaults and straightened out with time to spare and entered the water with very little splash.

When he surfaced and swam to the side of the pool, Coach Cady hauled him out of the water and wrapped his diver in a bear hug, followed quickly by Coach Bogg's arms around both of them. They walked back to the rest of the team and when the scores were announced- three eights and two nines- the team cheered wildly.

German diver Arthur Mund nudged fellow teammate Heinz Plumanns and snickered.

"Amerikaner sind so sonderbar. Es war ein gutes Tauchen, aber warum wie es feiern war vollkommene zehn?"_ (Americans are so strange. It was a good dive, but why celebrate like it was a perfect ten?)_

Heinz shrugged and gave Arthur a friendly punch in the arm. "Wahrscheinlich, weil er noch vor Ihnen ist! _(Probably because he's still ahead of you!)_

The exciting competition continued and it became quite clear that it was going to be a hard fought battle, especially when Pete made history on his next two dives. He scored the first and second perfect tens in the springboard event for his half gainer and again on his gainer one and a half.

The crowed roared when he received his first set of tens. And when he performed the gainer one and a half, the judges conferred amongst themselves before offering their scores.

"And now the scores for American Pete Desjardins," the announcer intoned. "Mr. Stern, the German judge shows… a ten!"

The announcer had to wait a full minute before he could continue with the scores. Once the crowd settled down, he begged their indulgence to let him finish listing off the scoring.

"Mr Brennan, the United States judge shows… a ten. Mr. Ahlstrom, the Swedish judge shows… a ten." He was nearly shouting now as much from his own excitement as trying to be louder than the spectators. "Mr. Clarke, the British judge shows… a ten. And finally, Mr. Farkas, the Austrian judge shows…"

Phineas, Pete and Fred were all holding hands, eyes closed, daring not to breathe. Mr. Farkas apparently had a flair for the dramatic and slowly raised his paddle to keep everyone in suspense. The announcer actually crouched down to try and see the paddle until finally the judge flipped it up for him to see.

"A ten! The American Pete Dejardines has just received another perfect ten. This is a first in the history of fancy diving!"

The applause was deafening as Fred and Phineas hoisted Pete upon their shoulders and carried him around the pool deck. The same Dutch official that had escorted them from the pool a week earlier made a move to stop them, but his superior held him back.

"Laat ze vieren, maar een beetje." _(Let them celebrate, just a little.)_

-0-

The next morning came entirely too early for the American diving team. They had celebrated Pete's gold medal and Mickey's sliver medal at a local restaurant in town and were up well past the ten o'clock curfew that night. It was a much quieter trip across the newly dubbed 'laan van aangename geur' (_avenue of pleasant fragrance_) that morning and Phineas hoped that the late night wouldn't ruin their chances at medaling.

While the men competed in the ten meter platform heats for plain and fancy diving, the women divers went to the springboards. Unlike the men's competition for the springboard, there were only ten ladies from four nations in the event, so it was decided that there would be no heats and they would go straight to the finals. This made Georgia and Dorothy very nervous.

"Wonderful," Georgia fretted. "My first Olympics and I don't even get to see my competition before the finals. What am I gonna do, coach?"

Coach Cady patted her on the head and smiled. "Don't you worry your pretty little blond head about that, young lady. We'll just make sure you do your best dives right from the start. You'll be great."

While Coach Cady prepped his divers for the head on competition, Phineas snuck away into a quiet corner to check the omni again. He took the device out of the breast pocket of his team blazer and felt that old familiar pit return to his stomach. He'd been stuck in this timeline for just over a month now and he didn't know how much longer he could go without giving up hope of ever being found. The unit was warm from being near his heart and his eyes suddenly clouded over with tears as he lovingly ran his index finger over the 'V', thinking of everything it stood for and what it may have ultimately cost him.

"C'mon guys," he whispered in a husky voice. It took a moment before he could summon the courage to open the omni, knowing he would be crushed once more. Taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly, he finally snapped open his only link to Jeff and security…

His heart was in his throat as he stared at the dim green light.

Phineas inhaled sharply and stared at the omni in disbelief. He held his breath and didn't move lest the slightest vibration render the unit inactive once more. Just when he realized he wasn't breathing, the light got a bit brighter. He exhaled and smiled as he heard a very sickly, weak little 'ding.' It was the the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

-0-

"Location confirmed, sir. Olympic swimming venue, Amsterdam, the Netherlands. August 9th, 1928. We've found Bogg and Jones!"

The roar of joy in the room was overwhelming. Omni Control Director Curt Rogers smiled for the first time in days and felt some of the tension in his neck and shoulders lessen, actually making his shoulders drop. As soon as the cheering quieted down, he raised his voice to speak to his troops.

"Okay boys and girls, time to move into Phase Two. Alpha team, follow that energy signature and see where it leads you. I want a lock on Drake's omni asap. Phillips, get your team together and see what's going on in Amsterdam besides the Olympics. Make sure those two are safe. And Walker, I need someone from your department prepped and ready to go debrief them within the hour. I'm going to report our findings, such as they are, to the council."

The Omnitron Control Center was a hive of activity as the director left the room. Curt could have easily used the comm to alert the council, but he felt that the first report should be given face to face. Five minutes later he was standing before the council, who was very relieved to hear the good news. As Curt was outlining his plan for finally tracking and capturing Drake, one of the Omnitron technicians burst into the room.

"Sir!"

No one interrupted a council meeting like that unless they wanted to die a slow and painful death. Rumored, of course, but no one really wanted to test that theory. Until now apparently. Curt turned to the technician and leveled an icy glare on her as she stood frozen in horror.

"Yes, Saunders?"

It was Brindle who spoke, eyebrow arched in irritated amusement.

"I, um, we … I'm **so** sorry…"

Being in front of the council was intimidating enough for the most seasoned pro, but it completely unnerved Technician Saunders. The director looked at the first year tech and motioned her to stand beside him, his demeanor softening somewhat.

"I would assume you have a very good reason for bursting in on our meeting unannounced?"

"Yes… yes sir. It's Bogg and Jones, sir."

There was a pause as they waited for her to continue, anticipation quickly turning to apprehension when they realized she didn't want to share her news. Counselor Garth removed his glasses and looked down on the young tech gently.

"What is it, my dear?"

Saunders took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then spoke. "I'm on Alpha team; we were trying to trace residual energy we found when we applied-"

"Lessons later, information now," Curt said firmly.

"Yes sir. Voyagers Bogg, Jones and Drake all landed in 1928, but Voyager Drake left the time zone. And based on the energy spike from Drake's omni when he voyaged…" she looked around nervously, hating that she had to be the one to do this. "Based on the energy spike, his omni transported **two **Voyagers."

The room was quiet as they digested this information. It was Garth who finally asked what they all knew to be true.

"So you're telling us that either Bogg or Jones is alone in Amsterdam 1928 and the other is with Voyager Drake?"

Saunders nodded. "Of course, we don't know if they were taken by force or went willingly, but we are certain that there is only one Voyager at the 1928 Amsterdam Summer Olympics. And we have no idea where or when the other two are."


	7. Changes in the Game

**Chapter 7**

_**September 25**__**th**__**, 1889 Tanzania**_

_**Heading to Marangu**_

The caravan started out again very early on September 25th, heading east to Marangu and the last leg of their journey before climbing to the peak of Uhuru. Hans was very excited to get to the village of the young chieftain whom he had befriended two years before on his last trip. Mangi Marealli was in his early twenties and was among the most loved rulers in the area.

Ahmed told Jeff they would reach Marangu in one day's march, though it would be a difficult climb to do so, and the steady morning drizzle didn't help matters. Jeff couldn't help but notice that Drake walked either against the cliff walls or in between Hans and Ludwig throughout the trek, and that he himself was kept under the watchful eyes of Ahmed, Elimu and Kwasi. No one escaped slipping or falling, and Jeff found himself helping those who were trying to protect him. Another thing of note was that Drake carried nothing while Jeff merely carried a bedroll and a canteen. He smiled and sighed, thankful for the care of friends, and climbed the dangerous, rain slickened slopes up to Marangu.

Jeff was amazed by the villages and the climb. At times it seemed they weren't on the side of a mountain at all but on flat farmland. He found himself beside Ludwig at one point and commented on this fact, and the older man smiled. He explained that there were plateaus on the mountain, and that it wasn't simply a slab of rock.

"Remember son, we started to 'climb' the mountain on the steppes a few hours out from Taveta, and have been climbing ever since. Uhuru offers desert and forest places across his grand expanse. He is a mighty giant, spreading himself through the land to offer his people a place to live and thrive, plant and harvest, hunt and trade. Uhuru is a land into and of itself, and he provides for his people."

Bananas seemed to be the prevalent crop the various villages grew and at about mid-day he was looking across a vast ocean of banana plants and sweet potatoes. The fields were neat and orderly, and the villagers very friendly.

Finally in the late afternoon the caravan reached its final destination before the true ascent of Kilimanjaro; the village of Marangu. Hans was as excited as a three year old with a new toy. He sent two of the Somali ahead to announce their arrival, and greeted the villagers like old friends. Jeff and Mohammad were walking together and had to smile as Drake became the new 'thing of interest' to the children as they ran around him in circles, and the teen couldn't help but chuckle with guilty pleasure at the man's irritation. Then something happened that Jeff would have bet big money would never have happened in any lifetime. Drake defended a child.

A little native girl of about three or four years old wearing nothing but her birthday suit and about twenty braids on her head tried to join the circle of children running around Drake but she was purposely shoved to the ground by an older boy who laughed as she fell and shouted something at her. Though neither Jeff nor Drake understood what the boy said, his tone clearly indicated that she wasn't wanted. Before the boy knew it, Drake had him by the forearm in a tight grip and the young native was face to face with Anger itself.

"Don't ever do that again," Drake snarled, emphasizing each word. He then roughly pushed the boy into several others, walked over to the little girl who sat crying where she landed, and knelt down beside her. He gave her a small smile and wiped the tears from her face with his thumb. He wracked his brain to remember the phrase many of the pagani would say when offering help, and he hoped it came out right.

"Kukusaidia?" _(Help you?)_ He held out his hand to the wide-eyed child who pensively reached out for the large white hand.

"Asante," _(Thank you)_ she said shyly as he helped her up.

The group of children and those in the caravan who witnessed the event watched in surprise as Drake turned around and walked over to Elimu with the little girl in tow. There was a brief exchange and then Drake turned to the boy who had pushed her down and prompted by Elimu, spoke to him in Swahili. Very poor Swahili. But even if the words were maligned, his tone was not and the threat was clear.

"Je, si kuumiza wasichana wadogo tena au wewe kujisikia hasira yangu. Kuelewa?" _(Do not hurt little girls again or you will feel my anger. Understand?)_

Mohammad translated for Jeff while several of the pagani nodded in agreement or made appreciative grunting noises. The boy and the small group of children around him nodded mutely, fear clear in their dark eyes.

"Wow," Jeff whispered to Mohammad as Drake walked with the little girl and handed her over to her mother.

The askari nodded in agreement. "Even bad man no let one hurt child."

Jeff felt a sudden pang of jealousy as he remembered when he was twelve, he and Drake omnied into Texas and Sam Houston was about to die by firing squad. Jeff had been pinned under a large wagon wheel and Drake omnied out leaving Jeff in danger of being blown up by a nearby stick of dynamite.

"Not always," he said quietly. "Not always."

By this time the Somali had returned with messengers from Mareale who greeted the caravan heartily and bade them welcome from their chief. Hans ordered his men to fire off a one hundred volley salute to honor their host which was marred by one of the guns dislodging its contents into Ahmed's shoulder. He was quickly tended to by Hans and Jeff, with some help from Dante.

Jeff was shocked by this second show of kindness from his rival, but wisely kept his mouth shut. It helped a bit that Hans and Ludwig were just as surprised, as shown in their glances at Dante and then over to Jeff. He knew they would talk later and Jeff was looking forward to that. _I'll take peace wherever I can get it,_ he thought.

After the rest of the 100 gun salute the caravan started to set up camp in a meadow and very shortly thereafter the chief came to greet them. He had a proud carriage and his stately walk made it obvious that he was the chief of the realm. His eyes danced with joy at the sight of Hans and he uttered a warm greeting to his friend.

"Yambo, yambo Dakta Maya. Yambo sana. Umefika sasa, uhalli gain?" _(Welcome, welcome Dr. Meyer. You are most heartily welcome. So you have come at last! How are you?)_

Hans gave a brief account of their journey and of his plans to once again scale Uhuru, and Mearale seemed pleased with the news.

"I am so glad to hear what you tell me," Mareale said. "You will have to be with us some time and I hope we shall see a great deal of each other. But you must be tired; I shall leave you now to rest. Tomorrow you must come and see my new house."

Hans readily agreed and after many more hand-shaking rituals and _Yambo sanas_ the chief took his leave of the group. Hans turned to Ludwig with a smile and nearly chortled with joy.

"War ich richtig? Ist er alles, was ich sagte, er würde sein? Ich könntekeinen besseren Verbündeten oder Freund auf dem Uhuru als Mearale. _(Was I right? Is he everything I said he would be? I could not have a better ally or friend on Uhuru than Mearale.)_

The welcome feast was wonderful, though Jeff and Drake weren't too keen on the ceremonial killing of the goat for their meal. Full bellies helped the pagani suffer through the torrential rains that night without cover, and by mid-morning the next day the campground was dotted with fourteen rustic little huts that had been made using the huge bundles of banana leaves brought by the native women.

While the porters were building their shelters, Ludgwig and Jeff were helping Hans select the gifts that would be given to Mareale later that day while Dante watched.

"It is almost ludicrous," Hans was telling Jeff as they looked at various items, "to actually think of the number of things a man must be able to do, to be and comprehend before he can be the successful leader of an African scientific expedition. It is amazing to find the dormant qualities one has; the existence of which would never have been suspected under ordinary conditions. One must be geologist, zoologist, botanist, ethnologist and meteorologist; astronomer, photographer and cartographer-"

"Auch, Hans, stoppen Sie bitte!" _(Goodness Hans, stop please!) _Jeff held his head in his hands as the two men laughed in surprise at his use of German. "I get it. You've gotta be a 'jack-of-all-trades' to be successful out here."

Ludwig picked up some cloth and a tin of tea, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, but he's nowhere near done, my young friend. One must also be an artist, engineer, sportsman and physician, a diplomatist, strategist and political economist; merchant, gunmaker, carpenter, tailor, shoemaker, blacksmith, cook and at least one hundred other things as well."

"One must also be a student."

Three heads whipped around to look at Dante in surprise and shock.

His face was stern, but not in the typical ugly sneer Jeff was accustomed to seeing; it was tempered, softer somehow but still threatening, and Jeff found it disconcerting. Something had changed in his enemy and he wasn't sure what it was. But there was a new air of dangerousness in Drake's attitude that frightened Jeff if for no other reason that he knew he could no longer count on Drake acting in a prescribed way.

The dark haired man stood up and started walking around the tent. "You and I, Herr Meyer, are the blessed students of the great Machiavelli. I was and am greatly pleased with the discipline and punishments you have metted out to the pagani and askari along our journey; I think Machiavelli himself would even approve. They have been swift, decisive, effective and short-lived. Yes, I believe he would approve of your morality wholeheartedly." He was enjoying the utter confusion in their looks and he allowed himself a rare, genuine smile.

"Yet you have taught me things I never would have though possible. Whether or not I agree with you is irrelevant; I have still learned things. Important things."

Jeff couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Yeah, like what?"

Drake's dark eyes danced, enjoying this new game. "Not all disobedience requires punishment. Actions can speak louder than words. Weakness can be strength, and strength weakness. And, if it doesn't hurt you're less likely to learn the first time around." He stood up and tossed a small pocket watch at Jeff, enjoying the look of shock, elation, disbelief and disappointment cross his face simultaneously.

Jeff opened the device and saw a watch face staring back at him. He looked at the gold timepiece and then back at Drake, who simply smiled.

"Time is running out, Mr. Jones," he said as he started to leave the tent. "I suggest you use it wisely."

_**VHQ**_

_**Omnitron control room**_

"The recovery team has returned, sir," the loudspeaker announced, shattering the working silence.

Curt's head snapped up from the schematics he was studying. It was almost midnight, he was exhausted and thus irritated, but he allowed himself a small smile. They were bringing a Voyager home and it was his job to debrief the man and find his partner. The problem was, he didn't know if it was Jeff or Bogg coming home.

Two minutes later the loudspeaker crackled to life again. "Director Rogers, we need you in debriefing room nine. Now."

Curt had not been prepared to hear Brindle's voice, and she sounded rattled… frustrated, and maybe even a bit frightened. Whatever it was, Curt Rogers knew it wasn't good and he knocked his chair over in his haste to leave the room. He ran down the long corridor and as he turned the first left-hand corner he was able to hear, faintly but growing louder, the sounds of a struggle and shouting. He sped up and recognized the deep baritone coming from the room ahead of him which told him all he needed to know. Curt skidded to a stop. His mind froze up as he processed this potentially dangerous twist.

If it was Bogg in the debriefing room, that meant that Jones was alone with Drake.

"Holy hell."

Curt ran a hand down his face as beads of sweat were suddenly present. This complicated things immensely, especially since they were no closer to narrowing down the signal on Drake's omni than they were two day ago when they first locked onto Bogg's omni.

He started walking now, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Phineas when he asked the inevitable questions. All too soon Curt was reaching to open the door but it was wrenched open from the inside and he was startled to see Councilwoman Brindle, her normally tidy appearance more than a bit disheveled; the classic wound-too-tight bun surrounded by a multitude of wispy fly-away hairs, her council robes obviously covering her nightclothes.

"You need to talk to him," she said with an authority that belied the picture she presented. "You need to have answers and you need to have a plan. Is that clear, Director?"

"Yes Ma'am. I'm already formulating-"

Her glare cut him off before her words left her lips. "No. Your plan will be set when you walk in there and you will have all the answers he needs. You have no other options."

"What the hell is going on in there," Curt asked as he clearly heard the briny expletives that had once been so prevalent in Voyager Bogg's everyday speech.

Brindle closed the door as she stepped into the corridor and leaned against it for support. "He resisted," she said simply. "Voyager Bogg had become too involved in the timeline and refused to leave until his 'assignment' was done. Chang and Dunphy made contact and did the initial debriefing, but when they announced it was time to leave, Voyager Bogg had other ideas. He's of the belief that Jeff and/or Drake will return to the timeline, and he didn't want to miss it. They had to knock him out."

Curt whistled in response, sounding very much like a child's slide whistle. He put his right hand in his pants pocket and started to play with his keys as he reviewed his meetings with the council over the past few days, weighing their options as they searched for the missing Voyagers. He met Brindle's gaze and she narrowed her eyes at him, which on anyone else would have been a raised eyebrow or a slight nod of the head. There was no need to speak because they both knew what the other was thinking.

They stared at each other for ten very long seconds before Curt finally nodded and Brindle's expression relaxed slightly.

"Good. Then we understand each other, Director?"

Curt nodded again, the pit in his stomach tightening almost unbearably. "We understand each other perfectly, ma'am."

"Then see to Voyager Bogg's debriefing as soon as possible. He's more than a little agitated."

Curt had to smile as Brindle's dry humor came back unexpectedly. "Yes ma'am."

Five minutes later Curt walked into the room and was subjected to a withering tirade and verbal abuse, the likes of which he hoped to never experience again. Bogg then spent the next ten minutes pacing around the room, muttering to himself about Drake and their voyage and what he would do to his rival when he found him. Curt was taking notes, hoping for something, anything that his team could use to help track Drake and Jones, when Phineas suddenly turned on him again.

"You had no right to pull me! Do you realize what you've just done? Drake's won. He'll tell Jeff that I abandoned him just like his parents did. Like his aunt and uncle. And he'll leave my kid alone with no Omni God knows where and it's all your fault!" Bogg flopped onto the couch adjacent to Curt's chair. "You haven't found them yet."

It wasn't a question, but Curt replied anyway. "No, we haven't."

"But we're running out of time. We have to find them before its too late!" Curt couldn't suppress his smile and the Voyager very nearly snarled at him. "Oh great, a Voyager comedian. I know we have control over time, but you don't understand. This is Drake we're talking about here. The man who knows that the best way to get to me is to hurt my kid. You can't control that kind of time."

The pain and fear in Bogg's voice was hard to hear, but Curt kept his expression and voice neutral. "No son, I do 'get it.' I understand exactly what you mean. Time is certainly of the essence here." He patted the Voyager on the leg. "I want to help you, but you've got to stay calm. Help us help you. I'd be saying the same thing to Jeff if your roles were reversed."

Phineas sighed and nodded his head. "Okay, fine."

Curt nodded. "Good. Here is what we know so far. We lost contact with your omni in Tanzania on October 7th, 1889. You simply vanished. Control was on high alert. After a few minutes of trying to locate your omni, we picked up an energy spike on the Omnitron in 1928 on the West Coast of the US. The fact that it didn't give an exact landing site like every other omni made me think that Voyager Drake might be behind your disappearance. Ever since he stole the 316-50, I've been trying to track it. But of course the signal constantly changes due to the modifications Drake's made and this reading was highly uncharacteristic of any I'd seen before. We studied the spike again and again, each time narrowing down your location. It was one of my first year techs who figured out that the energy signature was not one omni, but two, which is why the reading was so hot, and indicated that more than one Voyager was being transported, confirming my suspicions."

Phineas was staring at the floor, teeth clenched. Curt could see the muscles in his jaw working and could practically hear the man's teeth grinding together. At least the Voyager was listening, so Curt continued.

"The conclusion we came to was that both omni's were triggered at the same moment, and while we all know you have a soft spot for your model 313, it was no match for the open time calibration of Drake's 316-50. Drake's omni caused yours to short circuit-"

"Tell me something I don't know," Bogg snapped. "Jeff and I figured that out after we landed in Los Angeles. I know my omni is old, unreliable and should probably be retired but it feels like a part of me; you might as well remove my right arm." He waved the appendage at Curt for emphasis.

Curt smiled. "Yours is one of the few 313's left in service, and we know all about its 'unreliability'. So you landed in Los Angeles huh? I wonder why he chose there? Well, at least we'd narrowed it down to Southern California between Bakersfield and San Diego. But, if you were in Los Angeles, why did we find you in Amsterdam?"

Phineas sighed heavily and sat back down. "Because I'd been hired by the Olympic diving team and with Jeff gone and no omni, I had to go with them to the Olympics."

The omni control director knew they were being monitored and tried to draw out more information to help his techs narrow down the search field for Jeff and Drake. "Tell me about what happened."

"Well, you know we were on assignment in Tanzania talking with Hans Meyer and getting ready to help right history and make his historic climb. Then Drake showed up, we fought and I set my omni for VHQ. But like you said, Drake had to have hit his omni the same time I did and we ended up in 1928 Los Angeles. Turns out we saved a member of the American Women's Olympic diving team from an attack. Of course that was after Drake attacked us and apparently cleaned my clock. The diving coach took us in as thanks for saving Georgia and as I was on the mend we started attending practices and I offered some of my expertise. Coach Cady ended up hiring me as his assistant coach. I figured with a busted omni, we'd better do something to keep ourselves occupied until the cavalry arrived. And then that slimy no good creep decided to kidnap Jeff…"

Curt was writing quickly in his fluid shorthand and as Phineas paused he spoke up. "You're sure he kidnapped Jeff? Did you see him take your partner?"

"No, I didn't see him take Jeff, but I know he somehow tricked Jeff into leaving." Bogg reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a worn piece of paper. "And this is how. True to pompous form, he had to gloat."

Curt took the paper from him and proceeded to read.

_Dear Phineas:_

_Your protégé believes he can best me in a Voyagers game of skill. Though he climbs to great heights, his victory will be a cold one. Why? Simply because he chose me over you. He chose me over his new love. He is an idealistic fool… I wonder where he learned that from?_

_Even if he succeeds he will fail. History's win will be his loss. You know as well as I do that Voyagers may perish in the field, and young Mr. Jones may just very well be a causality of war._

The silence was more than Bogg could bear and he shouted, "That bastard has my kid in the great wide somewhere and he could be dead for all we know. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it!"

He sprung up off the couch and resumed his pacing, keeping his path in the center of the ornate Persian rug that covered the hardwood floor of the room. In the back of his mind he understood why he was in Brindle's study, but the 18th century nautical theme did little to calm him down.

"Phineas," Curt said urgently as he finished reading, "when you were in Tanzania, what did the three of you fight about?"

The Voyager slowed his pace as he thought back to that day. "What Drake had done to change history. He made sure the guide who was supposed to lead Meyer up the mountain was convicted of his 'crimes', which meant death. Jeff called him on it…"

_"And only an ass who had someone murdered would come back to see how he'd changed history," _Jeff's voice echoed in his memory before he repeated it aloud to Curt.

"I'd never seen Jeff so intense, so angry. I told him to back off but I don't think he heard me. Then Drake challenged him to go back to that point in history and try to stop him from having Kinyala killed, and Jeff jumped at the chance."

"And that's when you all omnied out?"

Phineas shook his head. "No, we were at breakfast with Hans, Ludwig and their porters. Drake ran out of the inn shouting, 'Catch me if you can!', and Jeff took off like a shot and I was right behind him. My last clear memory is setting the Omni to land us here at VHQ with Drake. I remember them fighting, I think… but the next thing I remember for sure is waking up in a really nice hotel room with two strangers and then Jeff came in and calmed me down. Hey, why do you look so happy?

Curt was grinning widely and he left his chair to sit beside Bogg.

"Because we have our first solid lead since this whole thing started. As you were rambling on about things, you mentioned Drake challenging Jeff. And then you remembered it just moments ago and confirmed it with this note. Don't you see Phineas? We _do_ know where and when Drake took him!" Curt held up the note, more confident than he'd felt in days. "He wrote, 'though he climbs to great heights, his victory will be a cold one.' He challenged Jeff to stop him from screwing up History, Phineas. To stop him from having the guide killed."

The stunned Voyager turned to the director with eyes blazing. "Of course. Why didn't I see that before? God, I'm so stupid!"

Curt stood up and shook his head. "No, Voyager Bogg. You were out of your element. Drake has only ever challenged you, not Jeff. I would hazard a guess that Jeff chose to go with Drake of his own free will. He is almost an adult after all. A young man out to prove himself, and if there's one thing Drake knows well it's pride. Now, lets see if we can figure out the time frame and bring Voyagers Jones and Drake back here. Are you with me?"

Phineas' head was swimming with all sorts of thoughts and random information he would try to use to find Jeff and he heaved a sigh before standing up. Come hell or high water, he was going to find his kid... no, his young man, alive and well and make Drake pay for this game once and for all.

"I'm with you, Director."


	8. Redemption

**Chapter****8**

_**VHQ**_

After a few hours of brainstorming, Director Rogers had to finally call it a night at around three in the morning. Phineas was given a guest room in the dorms and fell asleep almost instantly, in spite of all the thoughts and ideas swirling around in his head. After a few hours of sleep in which he had barely moved, he began to dream. He was looking down on Drake and Jeff in a small shelter in the snow and his heart began to race. Bogg shivered as he became aware of the biting cold and pulled the blanket tightly around himself. Suddenly he was seeing things from Drake's perspective; he felt groggy, he couldn't move, but he could hear Jeff talking...

_The cold was unbearable. Jeff huddled down in the make-shift lean to and checked on Drake one more time. He was still unconscious and his heart was beating more slowly than it was before, but he was still alive. Jeff couldn't feel the pain in his leg anymore and he sat next to Drake to keep warm. His mind wandered back to when he first met Phineas all those years ago, and falling out the window... he could still see Ralph, clear as day, looking down upon them as they fell. _

_"Ralph," he said aloud. "Ralph. You were a good dog. God, I miss you."_

_The wind started to howl and Jeff got closer to Drake. As he wrapped his arms around his enemy, he started to chuckle. What would Drake think of this if he were awake? He sat up and looked at Drake, the wound on his head oozing slightly where he'd struck the ice rock, and Jeff laughed loudly._

_"I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm risking my own life to save your sorry ass? What the hell is wrong with me? I must be insane!" He poked Drake in the ribs. "If our positions were reversed, you'd have left me out here to die. That was your plan from the start, wasn't it you freakin' bastard? Wasn't it?"_

Phineas groaned as he felt a finger jam in between his ribs and cringed at the hateful words.

_Jeff tried to stand but his injured leg gave out and he collapsed in a heap in the snow. Frustrated, he picked up a handful of the soft white powder and threw it at Drake. _

_"I hate you! I'm sorry your life was so shitty, and I'm sorry you got stuck with Machiavelli and had to suffer horrible torture. I'm sorry you blame Bogg for all your troubles, but it wasn't _his_ fault that your stupid Omni broke. He didn't force you to go into that time zone without authorization; you only have yourself to blame."_

_Drake's eyes fluttered open and he tried to focus on the face before him. "Phineas... left me... to die..."_

_"YOU DID IT TO YOURSELF," Jeff screamed at him. "Why am I even bothering to save a jackass like you when _you_ would have walked away and let him die? Can you tell me that? Why would I want to save you? Why?"_

_He crawled outside the shelter into the freezing afternoon and removed his jacket followed closely by his outermost shirt._

_"Jeffrey," Drake called out weakly, "Don't leave me."_

_ It started to snow heavily and within moments he lost sight of Jeff as the entrance to the shelter became clogged with snow..._

"Jeffrey!"Phineas sat up quickly, his breathing labored. "Jeff, come back, please..."

He sat in the dark for a couple of minutes as he tried to make sense of the dream and slow his racing heart. As he was about to lie down once more, there was a knock on his door which opened just a crack a moment later.

"Phineas, is everything alright?"

The deeper female voice was a surprise and his voice showed it as he turned on the bedside light and replied, "Olivia?"

He made sure he was covered as the door opened allowing the tall blond to enter. She had changed in the past five years, the short chin length hair being the most noticeable. Her trademark bomber jacket was gone, replaced with a dark brown bolero jacket over a deep red scoop neck knit shirt, black jeans and matching boots. Phineas caught his breath as she crossed the small room and sat beside him on the edge of the bed, all fear and memory of his nightmare briefly forgotten.

She smiled and took his hand. "Why do you sound so surprised? I heard you'd been found and I came back to help you search for Jeff."

The look of shocked gratitude on his face told her she had certainly made the right decision and she pulled him to her in a comforting hug. As Olivia tried to sit back a minute later, she realized Phineas was reticent to break contact, so she shifted into a position where she could put her arm around his back. Bogg instantly leaned his head into hers, letting their temples touch and with very little coaxing related his dream to her. When he was done, she got up and poured water for both of them from the small end table near the door. Phineas drank gratefully and watched Olivia scrutinize him.

"You've changed," he said simply.

"So have you Phineas," she replied with warm smile. "And I like it."

Her tone caused him to blush slightly and he grabbed his shirt off the bedpost, pulling it roughly over his head. As he reached for his pants Olivia turned her back to the bed so he could dress in semi privacy.

"I'm done."

She turned again and walked back over to the bed, sitting beside him. She took his right hand in her left and gave it a gentle sustained squeeze as she spoke.

"Tell me something. In the dream you said Jeff talked about Drake being with Machiavelli like he knew the story. Are you ever going to tell me how Drake got stuck in 1513 and why he blames you for it?"

Everyone knew the 'official' story of what happened that fateful day but Olivia, like many other Voyagers didn't believe it was the truth. Especially when Phineas never denied Professor Brindle's claims and simply accepted the blame.

Phineas could feel the water swirl in his stomach and he tried to deflect her question. "How did you know to come in here in the first place, know that I was having a bad dream...?"

He trailed off as his mind raced, filling in the blanks as fast as he could form the unasked questions and then exploded. "I'm being… you've got to be kidding me! They're watching me?" He launched himself off the bed and turned on Olivia. "What the hell is going on? Am I a prisoner now?"

"Phineas, you can't believe for one second that the council will give anyone a moment's peace while Drake has Jeff out there, do you? Brindle wants everything recorded and monitored to make sure-"

"...That I'm not lying, is that it? She's such a bitch!"

"Phineas!"

"No, I get it. Drake was her pet. He was the one who was supposed to give her better standing as a professor and on the counsel. _He_ was supposed to be the shining example of a good Voyager. But I caught him cheating and oh, did that piss Professor Brindle off when she found out it was true. Me, the stupid screw up who barely passed any classes had the audacity to accuse him and prove Mister Perfect was cheating!"

He stood in one spot while gesturing with his hands for emphasis as Olivia watched. "He was obsessed with Machiavelli; practically worshiped the guy. He wanted to have his Final in 1513 Florence, Italy so he could see the man himself. Of course we all knew that was _off limits_, verboten, forbudt. So what did Mister God's Gift to Voyagers do? He snuck into the Control Center and rigged it so his omni would register on the Omnitron as Spain in the 1300's instead of Florence, Italy 1513. And how do I know all this? Because I followed him and watched him do it. And when I confronted him in front of Brindle and the class the next morning as he was preparing to voyage, she _laughed_ at me and called me a liar. Then she sent him on his way and sent me to Professor Mims office."

In a room across the hall, Curt Rogers and Counselor Garth turned from the monitor in shock and Brindle realized that Phineas was about to redeem himself and that her carefully crafted story was about to be shown for the lie it was.

"You told us that they had challenged each other to go into off limit time zones and that Voyager Bogg had admitted to changing the Omnitron settings!" Garth was nearly shaking with rage.

Brindle tried to defend herself. "They had been trying to discredit each other for months! And what better way to improve his standing with his class than to make Drake look bad? How was I suppo-"

"So you called him a liar in front of his peers without even checking his claim first?" Garth's clipped cadence carried the weight of anger he could barely contain. "You defended the guilty and maligned one of the most honest Voyagers to ever walk these halls…" Garth couldn't finish he was so angry. They turned their attention back to the screen when they realized Olivia was speaking.

"…to be intense. Wow," Olivia cringed, knowing full well what a trip to Mims' office during finals meant. It was a miracle Phineas graduated at all, she now realized. "So, what happened?"

"Turned out that sending me to Mims was the best thing that old sow could have done. He listened very carefully to my story and then contacted Omni Control and requested an update on Drake's progress. Apparently even he thought she was…" he stopped short and looked for the camera. Everyone watched as he pondered his next words, and Brindle was most relieved when he decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valor.

His voice became a bit calmer, but still held a hard edge. "Well, let's just say there was no love lost between them on certain issues, or people. Anyway, Mims didn't trust her so he called Control. Director Harper put his star pupil Curt Rogers on the case. Leave it to our future Director to notice a fluctuation on the board and follow the trail of bread crumbs only to discover that Drake wasn't where he was supposed to be. He tried to do an automatic recall, but whatever Dante Ebenezer Dumbass did to the Omnitron locked the techs out and according to Curt, fried Drake's omni too. So they couldn't pull him back _or_ find his current location, and they're all looking to me to tell them _when_ he was in Machiavelli's time line. But I didn't know the exact date he had landed because as always I was too stupid to pay attention to that small detail."

"Phineas," Olivia began but he cut her off.

"Let me finish. It took them the whole day to find him. By the time they figured it out and got to him he'd been there for three months and had already been tortured with Machiavelli." He sounded drained now, and Olivia could see a melancholy taking hold of him. "I was there when they brought him into the infirmary and when he saw me he freaked out."

Olivia chuckled. "Freaked out? Nice Jeffism."

Phineas smiled in spite of himself. "Yeah, well that's really the only way to describe it. He started yelling and said it was my fault that he was tortured… he wasn't rational at all. The doctor asked me to leave, and I did but I came back the next morning. Drake was always an ass and we never did get along, but he didn't deserve what happened to him and I wanted to make sure he knew I tried to help him. Big mistake."

Councilwoman Brindle knew what was coming and steeled herself to hear the words she regretted ever uttering.

"Professor Brindle was with him when I got there. When she saw me she grabbed my arms and shook me and then yelled, 'This is all your fault! You two, always trying to outdo each other; Dante said he did this because you put him up to it. I know you two don't get along, but honestly Phineas! Challenging him to break the rules? How dare you, a low-life _nobody_ try and ruin the career of my star pupil?'"

Director Rogers nervously ran his hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. He had been part of the recovery team to bring back Drake and had witnessed Drake's reaction to seeing Phineas. He could feel Councilman Garth's righteous anger like a fourth person in the room, and right now he'd rather face a Mongol horde than witness any more of this. Brindle just sat there, her face burning with shame, fists clenched, her stance nearly mirroring the man in the other room who still felt the sting of those words years later.

Olivia stood up and got right in Bogg's face. "Phineas, you have _never _been a nobody," she said as she gently put a hand to his face. "You were chosen to be a Voyager, and no matter what you say about yourself, you passed your classes and field tests. So what if you're not a book learner. You have shown time and again exactly _why_ you were chosen for this job: because you care and you're one of the best damn field agents this place has seen in ages. And I think Brindle knew it then just as she knows it now. You may not be the greatest student, but you're an excellent teacher."

She leaned forward and kissed Bogg on the cheek, smiled at him and walked over to the window, drawing back the brown and blue paisley curtain to let in some sunlight.

"Look Phineas," she said as she turned to face him again, "it's been less than twelve hours since you were brought back here to VHQ and you've been through a hell of a lot in your last time zone, and here as well." His snort in response made her smile, and she approached him. "That's what I love about you, Phineas. Even in the midst of all this drama, you can still indicate more with a sound than with words. And by the way, Jeff's not dead. I can feel it."

He stiffened at that, his eyes showing his fear and something Olivia wasn't quite sure she could place. "What's really the problem, Phineas?"

She took him by the hand and led him back to the bed and sat him down on the edge. She climbed around behind him and began to massage his shoulders. He let his head drop as her deft fingers found all the tension he felt and made it melt away. He knew Olivia was right to make him think like this, and he remembered the talk he had with Coach Cady and Coach Roy Moore back on the ship in Amsterdam harbor.

_"Jeff and I, well, we have always considered ourselves a team. Ever since he came into my care, we've been there for each other and 'faced adversity with arms linked, charging into the fray' just like Hayhurst said. He's never kept secrets from me, and has never abandoned me before. Not like this."_

Phineas' mind began to race with images and memories while thinking, _'Abandoned. He has never abandoned me… He left me as Drake in the snow to die… left me alone. Abandoned…' _

After a few minutes of this Phineas straightened up and turned to face Olivia, folding one long leg underneath him leaving the other to dangle over the side of the bed. The devastated look on his face nearly broke her heart.

"He just took off without even telling me, Liv. He abandoned me, and I promised to never abandon him."

Olivia hugged her knees under her chin. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He sighed and wiped his eyes with thumb and forefinger, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "I hate you," he replied with irritation.

"I love you too, Phinny."

He glared at her. "Don't call me that."

"You called me 'Liv,' so we're even."

In the room across the hall, Brindle was silently crying, unable to look at either man in the room with her. Curt stood up and made for the door, trying to appear more casual than he felt. "I've seen enough. I'm going back to the Control Center and see what the team has come up with. Send in Dunne and Bogg whenever they're ready."

"Very good, Director Rogers," Garth replied gravely.

As Curt walked out of the room he knew Brindle was in for it. Once the latch clicked he listened at the door for just a moment.

"You lied to us all, Penelope. Do you realize what this means..." wafted through the door and the director walked away feeling slightly sorry for the councilwoman. These were the consequences of her actions and Curt was infinitely grateful that he wasn't on the receiving end of this lecture. He knew that Garth always had a soft spot for the outcast and the rebel in any class, and he was glad he didn't have to witness their conversation.

"Drake might have been your boy, Brindle," Curt said to the empty hallway, "but Phineas was _Garth's_ boy."

-o-

_**September**__**27**__**th**__**,**__**1889**_

_**Marangu, Tanzania**_

This was not going at all the way he'd planned it.

Only thirty minutes earlier, Hans and Ludwig had invited Jeff and Dante to join them at Chief Mareale's residence to watch him 'hold court.' The Voyagers knew this was when Hans made his formal request to pass through Marangu to climb Uhuru, so both readily agreed, knowing that history literally hung in the balance.

It was quite a spectacle, what with all the formalities and etiquette to be followed, but in the end Mareale had given 'Dokta Maya' permission to pass through his lands. Moments later two young natives were brought before the chief by his advisors. The Voyagers watched with intense interest as Ludwig translated the situation; Tanzania was a German colony and the colonists were conscripting natives to build roads. Kinyala and Tawfiki had been caught trying to avoid 'the draft' and were brought before the chief for punishment. He spoke briefly to each teen and then consulted with his advisors. They needed to appease the Germans- whose typical sentence for this offense could include death- but protect the boys as well and decided that sending the young men with Meyer as guides to the peak would be suitable punishment and satisfy the German colonists.

Drake reached into his pants pocket and opened the omni. Jeff held his breath as Mareale offered the two teens to Hans as guides, pointing out that Kinyala knew the forest like the back of his hand. But Hans declined the offer just as he did before and Jeff heard the soft chime of the red light as Mareale shook his head sadly and motioned for the two boys to be taken away.

"I think it's a good idea," the young Voyager said to Hans. "Having a native guide would certainly help you…"

The older man simply shook his head at Jeff and glanced over at Drake. "Back in Taveta Dante and I discussed a climb he had been on with 'guides' offered by a chief. He and his men were left to fend for themselves after the first night because they had been abandoned by the native guides. It is for this very reason that I won't take these young boys now."

"But Herr Meyer!"

"They avoided the draft Jeffrey, and will most likely bolt at the first opportunity. And I will not be stranded on Uhuru by two frightened children."

Jeff had looked at the two of them, both his own age and very frightened, and was suddenly filled with rage at the unjustness of it all and the ease with which Drake had manipulated things. He was not going to let Kinyala or Tawfiki die.

"So that's it then," he spat as he turned to face the chief. "You're going to kill them just like that? That's not justice, that's murder! How can you let this happen, Herr Meyer?" Jeff stormed over to Mareale, got right in his face and yelled, "How can you let them be murdered, you stupid idiot?"

Hans had tried to stop Jeff but it was too late. Two very large guards grabbed the young man while another pointed his spear right at his chest. Once the young chief composed himself again he returned the favor and put his face right into Jeff's and growled a threat that needed no translation. Hans dropped to his knees in an attempt to calm him and explain that the boy didn't understand that he needed to stay at least four feet away from the chief when addressing him. He didn't know how he was going to explain Jeff _yelling_ at him, but he could only put out one fire at a time.

Jeff sighed at the memory and looked to his right and left at the large guards beside him. He thought back to the last time he was in a similar situation with Albert Schweitzer in 1913 Africa, waiting for Bogg to find Albert's assistant Joseph who had the medicine necessary to save the chiefs life. It was during the long wait for Bogg to return that Jeff learned about _Ehrfurcht __vor __dem __Leben_, or reverence for life.

_"It's having respect for life, all life, no matter how small or how different that life is from our own," Albert had said to a young Jeff. "It demands each of us give up a small part of our lives for others. Do you understand?"_

Jeff sighed, thinking how he would give just about anything for Bogg to come running into the camp right now to rescue him just as he did all those years ago. But his salvation rested on the negotiation skills of Hans and Ludwig now. A mirthless smile slid across his face. In his quest for Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben, he disrespected one life in favor of another. And now he might have to pay with his own.

He suddenly thought of never seeing Georgia Coleman again and his heart raced with guilt. He hadn't thought about her since his arrival here week earlier. Only one week but it already felt like a lifetime ago. Tears stung his eyes as he stared at the ground, remembering the all-too-brief time he'd had with her and wished he could tell her how she made him feel. He knew he'd abandoned her without telling her, or Bogg for that matter why he left, and now they would never know his 'good and noble reasoning' was for their own protection. It had all seemed so rational, so right at the time to accept Drake's challenge. But now...

Jeff shook his head and glanced up as he heard his name. It was Hans and Ludwig in animated conversation with Chief Mareale, and it was clear they were talking about him. He could tell things were not going well for him by the looks on the Germans faces and he put his head on his knees, willing himself to stay strong.

Drake had been beside himself with delight when he watched his nemesis confront the chief.

"Such a level-headed teenager," he drawled to no one in particular as the guards had grabbed Jeff roughly and shoved him to his knees. "Yes, Jeffrey, this is definitely the way to win people to your school of thought and influence history."

He walked to the edge of the camp and stared at the open omni, smiling at the blinking red light before him. He had thought of stranding Jeff in the snow somewhere further up the mountain, but this was so much better.

Most of the village was now running to the center of the German camp, and he followed along at a leisurely pace. They made a large circle around their Chief and the young white man who had grievously disrespected him. Drake moved to the front of the circle and stood near Hans so he could get a translation and savor every delicious moment. Everyone had fallen silent and from the look on Hans' face, things were not going well for Jeffrey Jones.

Jeff was on his knees in the center of the circle of people, head bowed before Mareale. It was late afternoon and as the sun was setting, it caught the edge of the peak of Kibo, showering everyone in the brilliance of sunset against the mountain. Drake looked up and remembered the first time he saw that sunset and fought the swell of sudden emotion.

The chief nodded, apparently pleased with this display from the mountain god and proceeded to sentence Jeff to death along with the two teenagers who had been caught avoiding the draft. Jeff looked up at the chief after Hans translated what was said and caught Drake's eye as he replied calmly to his sentence.

"Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben. It's more than I wanted to give, but I will take their place if Herr Meyer will take the others as his guides. Please let me do that."

There was a crack of thunder then, and the sun was briefly obscured by several fast moving rain clouds. The village witch doctor started dancing around in a semi-controlled frenzy, pointing at Jeff and back to the sky several times. Mareale asked Hans what the prisoner said to elicit the response of Uhuru, and Hans carefully translated his young friends words.

At the exact same time Kabibe, the little girl whom Drake had defended a few days prior, wandered over to him and patted his thigh. Startled, he looked down at her as she held up a white bead and a small piece of red cloth.

"Hii ni fedha zote mimi. kutoa kwa wakuu yangu ili rafiki yako inaweza kuwa huru. Yeye ninzuri kama wewe."

Kwasi, who was standing beside the Voyager and was already upset, choked back a sob. Drake looked confused as the porter marshaled his emotions and tried to translate as the child continued to repeat the words 'kuchukua ni!' trying to force Drake to take the items.

"She gives all money to redeem Bwana Jeffrey."

Drake looked confused as he accepted the bead and cloth. "What do you mean, 'redeem?'"

The porter struggled in his limited English, "Redeem, pay for bad words? Kabibe tell you, 'Give to chief so you friend be free. He nice man, like you.' Now she say, 'Take it, take it!' She want buy freedom."

Before Drake could respond to Kwasi or the child, the Chief spoke.

"Heshima kwa uhai? Yeye hakuna. Kwa nini mimi ruzuku ombi lake wakati akanionyesha hakuna heshima?" _(Reverence for life? He has none. Why should I grant his request when he showed me no respect?)_

The crowd agreed with cries of 'Somiriali!' _(By the Chief Mareale!)_ as Drake asked Hans for a translation which came in German not English._ Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben... _Memories of looking up into Jeff's determined face and the words 'I will not let you fall' echoed in his brain; his own faithfulness to Machiavelli, even undergoing torture with him came back to mind. And that one beautiful little girl whose life he could not protect so long ago...

Kneeling down beside Kabibe, Drake looked into her impossibly dark, innocent eyes; eyes that were almost identical to Rosalia's. He took the cloth and bead from her, kissed her forehead and said, "Your bravery will not be forgotten, little one. To torture one so small because of her father's politics..."

He was startled by Kabibe patting his face and wiping a tear off his cheek. He no longer saw the fair skinned, dark eyed Italian child who was shoved to the ground by Medici guards trying to protect her father, Machiavelli's secretary, but a naked little native girl who trusted him as Rosalia had. She smiled at him and at that moment Drake knew what he had to do, loathe as he was to do so. He stood abruptly and turned to Hans.

"Tell the chief I wish to speak to him."

Though Hans looked doubtful, the fire in Dante's eyes was enough to give him courage to speak. It didn't hurt Drake's case that another crack of thunder echoed around them at the request, inciting another frenzied dance from the witch doctor. Drake stepped forward into the circle and stood about three feet behind Jeff clenching his fist around the bead and cloth. He nodded at Hans to translate for him and then he spoke.

"Chief Mareale, I can see that you are a wise and benevolent ruler. I don't understand everything that is happening, but I know that this young man before you does indeed have reverence for life. We have been... well, enemies as long as we've known each other, and yet as we climbed up to Marangu, I fell off the trail and it was Jeffrey who rescued me."

Mareale held up his hand and looked at Hans and then Jeff. "Hii ni kweli? _(Is __this __true?)_ When both men nodded he addressed Jeff. "Kwa nini? _(Why?)_

Jeff swallowed hard and glanced back at Drake, utterly mystified. The man's face was impassive, completely unreadable. So he took a deep breath and answered.

"Well, because even though I've hated him for years, I couldn't let him die like that. It would be just as if I pushed him myself, which I didn't, by the way."

"We have been bitter foes," Drake continued once Hans finished speaking, "one wishing the other dead more than once I am sure, but when put to the test, as much as he despises me and I him, he simply could not let me fall to my death. And I hated him for it. I still do, in all honesty. May I approach?"

When Mareale nodded, Drake stepped around Jeff, followed by Hans who stood beside him next to the chief. The Voyager stood in front of the leader and opened his hand. "Kabibe wanted me to buy his freedom because she said he is nice, like me. The child does not know me, but I defended her from bullies the day we arrived. Because I was nice to her I must in turn be a nice man. I am not a nice man. I am in fact... _nah-stee_." Several of the pagani turned away, heads down in shame. Drake placed the bead and cloth in the chief's hand and turned to face Jeff.

"I do not want to be indebted to you or your bumbling mentor and so I swallow my pride and ask this great chief of Marangu to spare your life as you spared mine. But do not think this changes anything, boy." He turned back to Mareale and bowed. "As this young man indeed showed me mercy," he nearly choked on the word, "I ask that you and the gods of Uhuru grant him a stay of execution so he may live to be a pain in my backside for at least one more day."


	9. Lost and Found

CHAPTER 9

Since Bogg's arrival and the discovery that Drake had most likely taken Jeff to Mt. Kilimanjaro in 1889 to rescue the guide Kinyala, the Omni Control center had been scouring the time line for any indication of them. Around nine am, Phineas and Olivia came in to lend a hand in the search. Based on his discussions with Phineas the night before, Curt and his team had narrowed the search parameters to September 25th through September 28th, 1889 in the Mt. Kilimanjaro village of Marangu where Kinyala would have been picked up by Hans Meyer. But all indicators showed a green light for the entire region.

"Smoking bat's breath!"

Bogg's outburst startled the small group and Olivia got up from her chair to go talk to him, but he was already on his feet pacing the floor.

"Don't start with me, Liv," he snarled. "We've got it narrowed down to the week of the climb and still nothing. Not even a red light to show if History has been messed up or not. Why the hell are they so hard to find?" He rounded on Curt, "You've had five years to figure out how to track Drake and his damn 316-50. Five years! You're supposed to be the genius Curt; why can't you find him?"

The director shook his head. "It's not that simple, you know that."

"No, I don't," he fired back, "The only thing I remember from 'Time Travel 101'-"

"The Physics of Time Travel," Curt responded defensively.

Phineas ignored him and continued,"...Is that one of our guest lecturers described time as 'wibbly wobbly.' And that British expression seems to have pretty much summed up this whole damn thing."

"Oh Phineas stop it," Olivia snapped.

He kicked a chair in response, sending it skidding across the room. The three of them stared at each other before Curt spoke up.

"I know you're upset and this isn't easy for you, Voyager Bogg. But you aren't the only one who is concerned about Jeff-"

"Sir? I, I think I might have something," Saunders called out from her station.

Curt, Phineas and Olivia met at the technician's board and crowded around her chair as she pointed to various schematics in front of her.

"I started a sub-search on this energy reading off the main search on a hunch. I widened the parameters on both ends of the historical event-"

"Just tell us the results, Saunders," Curt sighed in irritation. "If we ask you what time it is don't tell us how to make an omni."

The tech turned her chair to face her director, grey eyes glinting in anger. "In this case sir, you need to have some idea of where I started to understand where I'm going. And quite frankly Director, I'm tired of being told that my though process is wrong simply because I like to explain things. _Tech_nicians are _tech_nical people sir, and while you may have been told to stuff your creativity by Director Harper way back when, I refuse to let you stifle mine."

It took all the self-control Bogg and Dunne had to not laugh out loud at the look of indignant shock on the director's face. They averted their eyes when he looked at them, but that just told him how right Saunders was in her assessment of the situation.

"Young lady," he started sternly. "Under normal circumstances that outburst would have earned you the respect of your fellow first year techs and a stern reprimand from me. However, given the gravity of the situation, I do believe that a commendation for creative thinking and fearless determination to stand up for your convictions in the face of adversity is in order."

Technician Saunders blinked twice and then smiled slowly. The director was beaming at her, eyes sparkling with delight in the power of his position and his words. Olivia leaned down and whispered something to her and she nodded, finding her voice once more.

"As I was saying, I widened the search parameters and found an anomaly in Taveta on September twentieth with the Meyer caravan." She pointed to the schematic in front of her. "Not a red light exactly, but something had changed, almost as if something was covering a red light." The three around her looked perplexed and she simply shrugged. "I don't know how to better explain or describe it. You always say to double check readings before announcing them, so I ran through them again, going day by day. The next day, the twenty-first, it looked like I had a ghost reading, but then that weird 'covering' again through to the twenty-seventh, and then the board was green."

Phineas traced the timeline from Taveta to Marangu slowly as if willing Jeff to feel his presence. "So why can't we just drop in somewhere in that week and pull Jeff out if we think that's where they are?"

Saunders smiled. "I'm doing a paper for Professor Mims on how Voyagers interaction with the history they correct may actually be a part of the proper history all along, which is why we may see things like this." She pointed again to the schematic. "We obviously believe Voyagers Drake and Jones are in that time line right now and I think that quite possibly they may be an unwritten, unspoken part of the historic climb. Like they're _supposed_ to be there and history is waiting to see what they make of it. If we just go storming in, we might actually create a red light. Which boosts our theory as to why it's not a red light, but more of a… oh, I don't know, a, umm, a ripple in the time stream."

"It almost looks like a ripple," Olivia commented.

The director knew that Mims had been working on that theory for years and the circular logic of history going wrong simply to be righted by Voyagers who were supposed to be part of that history in the first place made his head spin. It was funny that Phineas would refer to Doctor John Smith as he thought back to the lecture his phrase had come from. _"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to affect. But actually, from a non linear, non subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey... stuff." _

"So Ms. Saunders, what in your expert opinion is our next step?"

The respect in his voice outweighed the sarcasm, and the technician smiled. "Well, sir, I think we-"

"Director Rogers! We just picked up Drake's omni," another tech called out a few seats down from Saunders. "Someone's just voyaged sir. Alone."

-0-

_**September 27**__**th**__**, 1889**_

_**Marangu, Tanzania**_

Jeff stared at Drake's back in shock. Never in a million years would he have imagined Drake asking someone to spare _anyone's _life, let alone his. His nemesis turned and looked Jeff straight in the eyes and the teen found the familiar cold dark stare oddly comforting, even now.

Mareale watched the two of them as he considered what to do. This Dante obviously had contempt for the younger man which was magnified by his 'life debt' to him. The chief could see how it almost made the man ill to make the request to spare his enemy's life, yet he still made it. And then there was Jeff. He had heard the pagani talk about Bwana Jeff and how he worked as one of them without complaint and disregarded his own station as a white man, and how he risked his life to save the man who hated him. And his life was hanging in the balance now because he tried to save the lives of two young natives.

"Yeye inaonyesha heshima kwa ajili ya maisha katika hatua zote wengine isipokuwa kwangu," _(__He shows reverence for life in all other actions except toward me,) _ Mareale muttered quietly as he looked at the young man before him. One of his advisors spoke from behind him in response and the chief looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding in agreement.

He ordered Jeff to stand and told Hans to follow him along with the teen. They walked several yards away from the crowd and then the chief turned and looked Jeff straight in the eye, studying the young man closely. After close to thirty seconds he finally spoke.

"You... keep Kinyala and Tawfiki... safe. Why?"

Jeff looked startled at the chief's use of English but recovered and spoke clearly so Hans could translate.

"I know what I did was wrong, and for that I am truly sorry. But allowing them to die because they refused to volunteer for slave labor was something I just couldn't let happen. They're your people to protect, aren't they?" The chief nodded slowly and Jeff took a deep breath as he continued.

"They should be given the chance to prove themselves. I know they tried to escape hard work, but in all fairness sir, no man should be considered less than another simply because of the color of his skin or the way he lives. Just because the Germans are colonizing doesn't mean the natives are automatically slaves. I know Herr Meyer and his kind have taught your people many things and showed you many wonders that you would call magical. I'm also sure Herr Meyer has learned many things from one he would consider a savage based simply on the fact that you live without the comforts his people have become accustomed to."

It was a risk he had to take, and Jeff knew from the tone Hans was using that he personally wasn't happy with some things he was translating, but Jeff trusted that he was a man of honor and not changing things to suit himself. Judging from the look in Mareale's eye, Hans was giving a very literal translation, so Jeff continued.

"So why are you ordering the death of two men simply because they stood up for their freedom? Because Germany requires it of you? Does Germany know your people like you do? If you really want to punish them, send them with the caravan. Uhuru is not a simple walk, and I know that my father punished me with hard work when I was disobedient. I can't think of anything harder than climbing a mountain up into ice and snow."

He paused a moment and looked back at Hans who gave him a smile and nodded encouragingly. Jeff's nerves were making his hands shake and his voice finally began to tremble a bit as well.

"Make them work as punishment for trying to avoid work. If you tell Herr Meyer that the fee for passage up the mountain is to take Tawfiki and Kinyala, he can't refuse you. He's well respected by his countrymen and the German colonists will accept this as fair punishment because you're helping Germany and saving lives. I can tell you from experience he is a fair taskmaster, and we'll work harder than we ever thought possible… probably wondering why we even joined the expedition in the first place."

Hans was actually grinning as he translated this last part, and even the young Chief had to smile. The German shook his head at Jeff and then addressed Mareale on his own. After a brief exchange, a decision was made and they shook hands. Chief Mareale turned to Jeff and bade him rise.

"Unaweza kuwa na moyo wa shujaa na mshauri. Hekima yako imekuokoa maisha yako, kama kuwa na maneno ya adui wewe. Dokta Maya, kama unataka kupita katika nchi yangu, ni lazima kuchukua Kinyala na Tawfiki kama viongozi. Huko, ni makazi. Mimi nitakuambia kijiji"

With a smile and a nod the young chief walked back to the assembly. Jeff's heart was in his throat but was shoved back into place by the slap on the back and crushing hug Hans enveloped him in.

"Gott sei gelobt! _(God be praised!)_"

"But what did he say?"

Hans held Jeff by the shoulders at arm's length and beamed. "He said that you have the heart of a warrior and an advisor and that your wisdom and the words of your enemy have saved your life. And if I want to climb Uhuru I must take Kinyala and Tawfiki as guides. Never let it be said that Hans Meyer blindly translated anything without listening to what he was saying. Well done my boy, well done!"

Jeff blinked at him, mute with shock. "So, I'm not going to die?"

As if on cue, the village erupted into shouts and whoops of joy. The pagani rushed over and Kwasi grabbed Jeff by the waist and swung him around like a small child while giving out a warrior's victory yell. Then in a jumble of what he could only call 'Swa-hinglish' (with some input from Hans), Jeff started to piece together what had just happened.

The Chief told the village that he found Drake's request compelling since an enemy never asked for their nemesis' life to be spared against certain death. And in speaking to Jeff, he saw a kindred spirit; a youth with wisdom beyond his years. Added to that, the fact that Jeff had asked to die in place of Kinyala and Tawfiki bespoke understanding, respect and courage. For these reasons, Bwana Jeffrey would live, as would the two young natives as long as Dokta Maya took all three with him to climb Uhuru.

Once the celebration settled down, Jeff actively sought out Drake who had been conspicuously absent, leading him to think that Drake had left without him. By the time Jeff found him twenty minutes later at the edge of the village near the Germans camp, his gratefulness had turned to anger fueled by his fear of abandonment. He stormed over to the Voyager and got right in his face.

"Just what kind of game are you playing, Drake? You wouldn't know how to swallow your pride if it was presented in the Holy Grail."

"Would you rather I had let him kill you?"

"That's not the point," Jeff exploded. "You don't have a conscience to clear; you've proven that time and time again. So what are you playing at?"

Anger flared briefly in Drake's dark eyes and Jeff could see the muscles in his jaw twitching. He inhaled slowly through his nose and just as slowly exhaled the same way. His eyes were now clear and he took a step back from Jeff.

"You're welcome." He put his hand in his pocket and started to circle the young man before him. "You need to learn some manners, boy."

And Jeff was suddenly staring at the empty space where Drake had stood a moment before.

The shock and fear hit him in the same instant, making him feel ill. He sat down and pulled his knees up to his chin, his mind racing. No Drake meant no omni and with no Omni VHQ would have no idea where or when to find him... the familiar rush of panic made his heart race and he clenched his hands into two tight fists. Jeff forced himself to breathe slowly as he remembered the times Bogg coached him through these panic attacks in the past.

'_Take it easy, kid. Slow, deep breaths… that's it. Breathe in… hold it… hoooold it… now breathe out. Keep going and listen to me. I will not leave you. I will not abandon you..._

"Is everything all right, young man?"

Jeff looked up and stared into the concerned face of Ludwig Purtscheller. The look in his blue-grey eyes reminded Jeff of how his dad, and even Bogg, looked when worried about him and Jeff smiled self-consciously.

"Es geht mir gut, Herr Purtsheller. Danke." _(I'm fine, Herr Purtsheller. Thank you.)_

"Ach, sprechen Sie Deutsch? Sehr gut. Ich muss Hans informieren." (_Ah, you speak German? Very good. I will have to tell Hans.) _Ludwig smiled at the confused expression on the teen's face and chuckled. "Of course you don't speak the Mother Tongue. You have heard us use the phrase enough times that you picked it up. But your accent was sehr gut, my friend. Yes, very good indeed."

The teen seemed to relax a little and Ludwig placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"What you did today took a lot of strength of character, something I had not hoped to find in someone your age. My Jewish neighbor would call it 'chutzpah'."

Jeff smiled distractedly. "Chutzpah, moxie… yeah, I know. I've been told that more than once. And thanks."

"Bitte schon_, _you're welcome my friend." He scrutinized Jeff closely. "Are you sure you are well, Jeffrey? I know you have been through a lot today, and you look rather pale."

The teen averted his gaze and took a deep breath. "I'm fine," he lied.

Ludwig put his arm around him. "Not only am I a father, but I am also a gymnastics teacher. I know when children are lying, and you are a terrible liar." Jeff's cheeks turned pink with embarrassment and the older man chuckled. "Are we not friends out here in the wild? I can see the stress and fear this ordeal has put you through, and if you can talk about it, you might feel better. I made the same offer to Dante after his fall and the dummkopf said he didn't want or need my pity."

At the mention of Dante, Jeff stiffened and swallowed hard. He stepped away from Ludwig and walked quickly toward his tent but didn't get very far.

"Come, you need a friend and I shall be it," Ludwig said gently as he took Jeff by the arm. "Now let's walk while you talk to me."

-0-

**VHQ**

Phineas simply wanted to be alone. He walked back to his room and collapsed on the bed. His head was pounding and he felt sick. He knew Drake had left Jeff alone because if Jeff had the omni, he would come back to VHQ, he knew it. The last lines of Drake's note ran rampant through his brain: _Even if he succeeds he will fail. History's win will be his loss. You know as well as I do that Voyagers may perish in the field, and young Mr. Jones may just very well be a causality of war._

He groaned and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling for a few minutes and gather his thoughts. When he sat up again his head hurt less but his heart was still heavy. He stood up and walked over to the window, leaning on the small desk in front of it. He stared at the gardens outside for a moment before dropping into the chair beside him, slamming his hands down hard on the desk. The small white envelope with his name on it jumped an inch in the air and landed on top of his fingers. He recognized the writing and tore open the note.

_Phineas Bogg:_

_Here is to a game well played. This is where you will find the boy: the evening of September 27th, 1889, Marangu village on the slopes of Kilimanjaro. _

He stood looking at the piece of paper for a minute or more before rousing himself and tearing out of the room, back up to Omni Control. He nearly collided with Brindle as he rounded the last corner before the door. There was a flustered, awkward silence for a moment as they tried to not make eye contact and yet navigate around each other. Phineas finally stood still and held out the note.

"What game is he playing? What is your precious Dante up to?"

Brindle took the note and read it carefully, her heart in her throat. She looked up at Phineas and said softly, "I don't know him anymore, Phineas. If I did I would have ended this long ago, believe me."

He glared at her and grabbed the note back from her hands. "So what do I do now? Do I believe this and find my kid or am I walking into a trap?"

Not waiting for her answer he strode into the control center and handed the note to Curt. A heated discussion ensued as to the course of action to be taken. Curt actually grabbed Phineas' omni from him to prevent him from voyaging and Olivia was reaching for her own omni when an ear-splitting whistle broke the air.

"What the devil is going on in here," Garth roared. Curt held out the note which Garth snatched angrily from him and read quickly. He looked at the small group and handed the note to Phineas. "Take Rogers and Dunne and bring the boy home."

-0-

That evening Jeff watched the natives dance around the fire, feeling mesmerized by the beat of the drums and the chanting. This was the dance to pray for a safe climb for Herr Meyer and the others, and to praise the wisdom of their young chieftain for sparing the lives of three young men who deserved a second chance. He let his mind wander over the events of the day again, focusing on the long walk he had taken at Ludwig's insistence. The older man talked for quite a while about his life in Germany, gymnastics and his journey with Hans, anything to distract Jeff and allow the young man to deal with his inner turmoil. It was when he started talking about his children that Jeff finally broke down.

Once the tears had past he started talking about Bogg and being a Voyager. He didn't care that Ludwig looked beyond perplexed by what he was hearing; it felt good to talk to someone about it. But something strange was happening as well. Whenever he mentioned Dante, it was as if Ludwig had to think hard to remember him. Jeff knew that as history was corrected that Voyagers were eventually not remembered, but he'd never seen it happen before.

His attention was brought back to the present when he felt a small hand on his arm. A naked little girl with braids all over her head started chattering at him in Swahili, telling him a rather impressive story judging by her gestures and facial expressions. Thankfully Ahmed was with her and let her tell her tale before translating it to Jeff. She finished by waving her hands above her head very much like the witchdoctor had done earlier that day, and then held out a small piece of red cloth in one hand and a white bead in the other.

Ahmed spoke to her, indicating he needed to translate and then turned to Jeff. "This is Kabibe, little one who Dante protect when we arrive. You play games with her and others." Jeff nodded, and Ahmed continued. "Today at counsel she give Dante her money to buy you freedom. I not believe her if I no see with my eyes. He take and he cry and kiss her head, then give bead and cloth to chief. That mean you now her own, and she name you brother."

Tears welled in Jeff's eyes and he looked at the four year old in awe. She seemed to understand his shock and smiled, pointing to him and then herself saying, "Ndugu na umbu." _(Brother and sister.)_

"Asante," Jeff whispered and she threw her arms around his neck in a hug which he carefully returned. He looked at Ahmed and asked, "So why does she have the bead and cloth now?"

"Chief find her before feast and give her back cloth and bead. He say her heart wise and make her..." he fell into German, "er machte sie eine Prinzessin. Understand prinzessin?"

"A princess," Jeff replied cautiously after he repeated the German word, "Like his sister, or sibling? A title of honor?"

"Yes, honor! Much honor," Ahmed replied. "Chief say her heart save you and prinzessin not pay, only use words. Now she give you for keep and remember."

He spoke a few words to Kabibe and she offered the items to Jeff once more. He held out his hand and she dropped them onto his palm and then closed his hand with both of hers. She smiled widely, white teeth bright against her dark face and said in English, "Friend mine, brudder. Free."

She skipped off leaving a stunned 'brother' behind her. Jeff looked at Ahmed as he settled down beside the teen. "You said Dante cried when she gave him these," he waved his hand with the bead and cloth at Ahmed. "Are you sure we're talking about the same guy?"

"Yes Jeffrey. He ah, he was remember brave little one who was torture for father's... polo-ticks. That what he say when take money from Kabibe."

"I gotta get outta here," Jeff said as he scrambled up from his seat.

This was entirely too much to think about all at once and he had to get away from the crowd before he completely lost it. He went back to his tent that he shared with Ahmed and Mohammad and flopped down on his bedroll. He found it strangely peaceful to finally be alone with his thoughts, even though being alone was something he had feared. Drake showing him compassion was hard enough to swallow, but to hear that he had a heart, that he _cared_ for small children and was moved to save him because of that?

"Where was your heart five years ago when I was nearly blown up by dynamite?"

Jealousy and anger, along with everything else he had endured that day, raced to the surface and he felt claustrophobic with the emotions. He wanted to cry, to run away, to beat somebody up. Someone had to pay for what he was feeling and Jeff started shouting at the empty tent.

"I hate time travel," he bellowed. "I hate Drake, I hate VHQ and I hate omnis. Drake you're nothing but a coward. A rat bastard, low life, ugly, nasty coward and I hate you. I hate you, do you hear me? I hate you!" He started picking up blankets and clothes, throwing them all over the place. "You wouldn't know how to stand and fight if your life depended on it. Running away is always easier, isn't it? And now I'm stuck here with no way home... gaaahh!"

He was breathing heavily and had started to sweat from the exertion as he looked around the tent. He had kicked, thrown and tossed about everything in his path leaving nothing in its original place. Jeff stood in the center of it all for a moment before dropping to his knees and letting out one agonizing sob. He heard the tent flap open and knew he and his mess were being scrutinized, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Drake really had won and Jeff was finally accepting his defeat. What was a little more humiliation in the grand scheme of things?

"I'm sorry, Herr Meyer," he said as he opened his eyes and kept them fixed on the booted feet before him. "I will clean this up and somehow repay Ahmed and Mohammed for anything I ruined."

"I'd be glad to give you a hand my boy."

Jeff's head jerked up in shock at the familiar and very American sounding voice above him, and stared into the face of Director Rogers and a woman he thought he recognized. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't, so the woman knelt down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I've had my fair share of temper tantrums in my day, but that one was pretty impressive."

"Olivia?" The word was barely out of his mouth before he had her in a vice-like hug.

"It's good to see you too Jeff," she said softly as she rubbed his back and held him very much the same way she held his mentor several hours before. She glanced up at Curt who nodded and smiled before he ducked out of the tent. Once they were alone she turned her attention to Jeff again. "Now, let's clean this mess up and get the heck outta here."


	10. Life Lessons

Chapter 10

Jeff had never been so happy to sit through a debriefing in his life. As exhausted as he was, the familiar surroundings and faces of VHQ brought him comfort and energized him. Phineas had wanted to wait and let him get cleaned up and fed first, but Jeff wanted to put this ordeal behind him as quickly as possible. He struggled in the telling of Drake's fall and rescue, and became more withdrawn the closer he got to the end of the story. None of this went unnoticed by Garth or Brindle, and it was decided that they would wait until the following day to continue.

Phineas had been given a small apartment for his stay and once in the safety of their 'own home,' they both made a beeline for the bedroom.

"Finally, some peace and quiet," Jeff said as he flopped down on one of the two queen-sized beds in Bogg's room. He stared at the ceiling, hands behind his head and sighed loudly as he let himself ooze into the mattress.

There were so many things Phineas wanted to say and ask Jeff now that it was just the two of them, but he didn't know where to start. He also knew that emotionally Jeff was holding back, trying to be strong in spite of all he went through. As much as he wanted to help he knew he had to wait for Jeff to share on his own terms. Feeling frustrated, Bogg ran both hands down his face and exhaled so forcefully that his lips smacked together, startling both men and they laughed.

"You sound like a horse," Jeff chuckled.

Phineas rolled onto his side and glared back at him with a familiar twinkle in his eye. "Ha ha, funny kid."

They lapsed back into silence, neither knowing what to say to the other. They could hear the soft tinkling of a wind chime just outside their bedroom window, the melodic tones lulling them into a peaceful rest. When Jeff rolled onto his right side almost two hours later he was instantly awake with a surprised gasp of pain.

Phineas startled awake. "What's wrong Jeff? You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied as he pressed his hand to his side, "but I think you bruised a rib earlier when you hugged me outside my tent."

Each remembered seeing the other for the first time as Jeff emerged from his tent with Olivia. They both stopped and stared for just a moment and then Bogg ran over and grabbed Jeff in a bear hug. After what could very properly be called the single longest week of his life Jeff had relished the crushing embrace of his best friend and mentor, even if he was a tad over-zealous.

"Do you blame me," Phineas asked. "I hadn't seen you in over a month! I guess I got a little carried away, sorry."

"A month? I was only there for a week."

"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey..."

"What?"

Phineas shook his head with a small smile. "Nevermind. Time travel will never make sense to me, even though the good Doctor Smith gave it his best shot. Just trust me when I tell you that I went to Amsterdam with the Olympic team and watched Georgia win a silver and a bronze medal before Chang and Dunphy pulled me out."

Jeff swung around to sit on the edge of the bed as his face lit up. "She won two medals?"

"Yeah, and let me tell you kid, she's the real McCoy." Jeff smiled at the colloquialism his friend used so naturally as Bogg continued. "Betty won the gold on the ten meter board and Georgia got silver, and then we swept the three meter with Elizabeth taking the gold, Dorothy silver and Georgia bronze!"

"Yeah! All right," Jeff cheered and bounced on the edge of the bed and sucked in his breath as his side ached again. His smile turned wistful a moment later. "I wish I'd been there to see it."

"Me too kid. Me too."

"So, what are we waiting for? We can go back, I can hide in the crowd and then surprise her!"

"No."

"Then let's go to the 1932 Olympics and watch her-"

"Jeff, we can't-"

"Whadaya mean 'we can't?' C'mon Bogg, I've gotta tell her how I feel about her."

"She won't remember you."

In the split second it took to open his mouth and start to reply, Jeff remembered how quickly Drake had disappeared from the collective memory of Herr Meyer's caravan, and his indignant response came out as a strangled gasp.

The confused, shattered and heartbroken look on his friends face was almost too much for Phineas to bear. "I'm so sorry Jeff."

"Is this what it felt like to lose Mabel?"

The question caught Phineas by surprise. Being forgotten by the women he cared about was one thing, but giving up the woman he loved for History's sake...

The look on his face was answer enough for Jeff. "Well," he said brusquely, "are you gonna make me look up her history or do you know how her life went?"

Phineas cleared his throat. "Well, she won a gold and silver medal in the 1932 Olympics in LA and got engaged to Mickey, but they never married. She considered going pro but then decided not to. She won dozens of titles and was loved by everyone. You know how competitive she was, right? Well, Georgia was the first woman to complete a two and a half forward somersault in competition, and boy did she wow them! But then in 1937, she contracted polio."

"No." Jeff paled at the word and sat down hard on the bed, making the springs protest. Phineas took a deep breath and finished her tale.

"Swimming pools were thought to be one of the great carriers of the disease, you know. But she fought back and she fought hard. It was swimming that helped her regain the use of her arms and legs. She inspired so many people, Jeff! She would not let polio beat her, and it didn't. Georgia wanted to walk, swim and run again, and she won that battle. But she didn't win the war."

"What do you mean, 'she didn't win the war,' Bogg? You said she beat polio!"

Bogg started to pace. "Well, the polio caused other medical problems for her over the years. She developed a chronic liver problem, and she contracted pneumonia. Her body just couldn't handle the stress and she died in 1940."

As he was talking, Bogg had picked up some papers from the nightstand beside his bed. He now sat down beside Jeff and held them out for his friend to see.

"I um, took the liberty of printing out her obituary. They got some facts out of order but still..."

Holding the paper loosely, Jeff tried to focus on the words in front of him through the fog of tears.

The Bakersfield Californian. September 16th, 1940

**_GEORGIA COLEMAN DIES OF ILLNESS_**

**_LOS ANGELES_**, _Sept. 16- _

_The sports world today mourned the loss of one of its most colorful figures in the death Saturday of Georgia Coleman, former Olympic diving champion._

_For seven years her name was almost a household word and her graceful body, usually in a glowing red diving suit, was a part of every important water meet. No person who competed in the 1928 Olympic games at Amsterdam and in the 1932 contests here was more widely known or better liked._

_Misfortune halted her career five years ago and and followed her thereafter. It started when she hurt herself badly in a dive into a shallow pool in Paris. Bronchial pneumonia struck her next, then polio, and finally a chronic liver ailment which caused her death._

_As her friend and columnist Dick Hyland wrote of her, "She never said an uncomplimentary word about anyone. She never did a bad thing in her life. They can open the gates of heaven wide, because a champion of champions is headed that way. Aloha, nui loa, Georgia. We'll never forget you."_

_Funeral services will be held Wednesday at the Little Church of the Flowers in Glendale._

Jeff kept his head down well after he'd finished the article, tears hitting the page with a dull plip.

"She was deeply mourned by everyone who knew her and she was inducted into the Diving Hall of Fame in 1966. If that helps," Phineas said, trying to somehow ease Jeff's pain.

"She was only twenty-eight," Jeff said sadly. "Twelve years from when I met her she died. How is that fair, Bogg?"

Phineas stood up and walked over to his bed. "It's not, Jeff," he said as he lay down again.

They laid there in silence and Jeff stretched out, laying on his right side. After about a minute he realized something was pressing hard into his hip bone. He stood up and jammed his hand into his pocket to remove the offending object.

All the color drained from Jeff's face as he closed his hand around the familiar items, and he choked back a sob. Phineas rolled off the bed and stood beside Jeff, putting his hand on his shoulder, but Jeff shook it off.

"Leave me alone." Jeff turned and walked over to the window, fist clenched tightly around the white wood bead and the red piece of cloth.

"I can't, kid."

Jeff spun around and lashed out at Bogg. "I'm not a kid anymore Bogg, don't you get that? I'm seventeen. Just because I made a poor choice in my life that cost me almost everything, including my life, doesn't mean I'm going to dissolve into a sobbing puddle of goo like I did when I was little. I have to deal with this on my own."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do," Jeff raged at Bogg, getting right in his face, making the older man take a step back. He was shaking, his face flushed and his eyes nearly black. "These right here," he opened his hand to show the bead and cloth, "these say I do. I have no choice!"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"I have to prove I'm strong enough to be a Voyager! Prove that I can love someone only to let them go on to their destiny and be alright like you always are. I have to prove that Drake didn't get inside my head because he showed me mercy by saving my life and then abandoning me-"

Jeff gave an angry, visceral yell as he dropped to his knees and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears. "I am not weak," he bellowed. "I am not a child!"

Phineas stood for just a moment longer before kneeling down beside Jeff. He put his hand on the young man's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze of support.

* * *

It had been difficult to keep his presence off the radar, but Drake knew he had one more task to fulfill in his challenge with Jeff, and discovery was well worth the risk. He found where the two Voyagers were staying and crept cautiously into the quaint apartment. Hearing voices come from the bedroom he relaxed a little and sat down on the couch with a sigh.

He reached into the left breast pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out an ornate gold lighter and a Cuban cigar, taking a moment to let the comforting smell of the tobacco soothe him. After placing them on the table he pulled a burgundy fountain pen and a small envelope from his right pocket. Taking the small note card out of the envelope, he smiled at the intricate detailing of the calligraphy in the single letter D in the center. He picked up the Cuban cigar and took the lighter off the table. In the other room the voices were much louder now and carried clearly into the living room.

"Yes I do. I have no choice!"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Drake tilted his head and listened to Jeff rapidly lose control, slowly opening the lighter with a cold smile._ Yes, the boy is afraid_, he thought wryly, _and easy to manip-_

The gut-wrenching yell made him jump, dropping his cigar on the table before he could light it.

"I am not weak. I am not a child!"

The savage words from a young and newly broken soul tore open the still-healing wound Drake would just as soon forget. He stiffened as his heart raced, flooded with emotions and memory of his own outburst less than a week before.

"I am not weak," he had shouted at the mountain. The next instant he remembered Jeff's face above him, turning red with the effort of holding onto him. And those words, compassionate but as solid as the grip he could still feel even now... "Dante, I'm not going to let you fall."

Drake took a deep breath and cleared his throat to quell the rising emotions, grabbed the cigar and quickly lit it, allowing the smoke to calm his nerves. He picked up the pen and held it just above the note card, unsure now of the original message he intended to write. As his heart rate slowed, he suddenly remembered the bent and wrinkled old woman wearing a homespun rough white dress and headcover with blue accent, her ancient face close to his as she whispered her sage advice to him alone.

A sardonic smile slowly lit his face and he wrote her words as his final message. "Oh, well played Teresa," he chortled as he stuffed the note into its envelope, sealed it and wrote 'Voyager Jones' on the envelope, puffing on his cigar slowly. "Well played indeed."

* * *

Jeff took a shaky breath and exhaled before looking up at Bogg.

"Feeling better kid?"

It had been about ten minutes since his outburst and he was exhausted, irritated and embarrassed. "So much for not dissolving into a puddle of goo," he muttered, more to himself than to Bogg.

"It's okay to be afraid ya know," Phineas said cautiously. "And it is okay to cry."

"All the time?" Jeff's words were bitter and defeated.

"You don't, okay well you did in the beginning, but you got, I mean... C'mon Jeff. Cut yourself some slack will ya? When I landed in your room you were an eleven year old-"

"Almost twelve," Jeff interjected.

Phineas sighed, "Fine, an almost twelve year old kid who had just lost his parents in a horrific accident, and then you were sent to live with people who didn't give a rat's ass about you. And then you fell out a window and suddenly found yourself in ancient Egypt with a guy you didn't even know and no way to get back home. You were frightened and alone, but also smart and cocky."

Jeff smiled slightly, "Smart kids gimme a pain, right?"

"Well, you were a pain in my 'tuba' for quite a while you know."

Jeff glanced up at his friend to see a stern, truthful face with eyes that twinkled with just a bit of tease and he smiled self-consciously.

"You weren't much of a charmer either."

"Granted. But you and me, we grew up together. And maybe you did tend to cry more easily than other boys your age, but look at where you came from. I'm surprised that you didn't just curl up into a ball of sobbing goo and..." Bogg trailed off and sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?"

Jeff was about to reply that since he'd been crying he couldn't smell anything when a klaxon shattered the stillness. The next instant four security guards flashed into existence with weapons drawn.

"Don't move and don't speak," the leader barked at the two startled men. "Chesterson, report!"

There was a pause and from the living room came the disappointed response, "All clear Lieutenant Stewart."

"Harkness, secure the area. At ease everyone." The tall man with the clipped English accent approached Phineas and shouldered his rifle. "Sorry about that, Voyager Bogg."

"What the hell was that all about," Phineas asked.

"In a nutshell, the renegade Voyager was tracked planetside, right here in your living quarters," the lieutenant replied.

"Drake was here?" Jeff looked at Bogg in shock.

"Sir," a female officer called from the front room, "There's something out here for Voyager Jones."

They came out and stood around the coffee table. On the edge of the table closest to the couch an unfinished cigar was slowly burning.

"I told you I smelled something," Phineas muttered.

A large piece of ash dropped to the floor and a grey tendril of smoke rose from the cigar. In the center of the table, propped up against the small fishbowl, was an envelope addressed to 'Voyager Jones' in the distinctive script of Voyager Drake. Jeff reached for the envelope but stopped and looked at the lieutenant.

"Go ahead, m'boy."

He picked it up and slowly pulled the familiar stationary out of the envelope before flipping the card open to read the message. When a full minute had passed and Jeff didn't show any sign of sharing the contents, Lieutenant Stewart nodded to his team and they filed out of the small apartment.

Officer Harkness turned to the Lieutenant and whispered, "But sir, that note is evidence…"

Lt. Steward propelled the man further down the hall. "Yes Jack, it is. But it's not going anywhere and the lad has had enough excitement for one day. We shall retrieve it later."

Once they were gone Jeff sat down on the couch, tossing the note card on the coffee table and put his head in his hands.

Phineas reached for the card and just as he touched it he paused; Jeff was staring at him but didn't protest the action. Taking that as an okay to proceed, Bogg picked up the note and read it.

_Voyager Jones:_

_Never regret having chosen or met the wrong people in life,_

_ As no one else can teach the right lessons better than the wrong people._

_- Mother Teresa of Calcutta._

"How dare he quote that beautiful woman," Phineas exploded. "Of all the vile, rotten things-"

"She's right."

Phineas turned to Jeff in shock. "What?"

Jeff stood up off the couch and snatched the note out of his friend's hand. "She's right. Mother Teresa I mean. The wrong person did teach me the right lessons."

"Now wait a second, kid. Fifteen minutes ago you were falling apart at the seams, unable to deal with all the crap that bastard put you through, and now you're, you're…"

"Being rational?" Jeff almost laughed at the look on Bogg's face. "I know it's totally weird, but this," he waved the note between them, "this feels right. He gets it, and so do I."

"Then explain it to me, Professor Jones because I'm lost."

Jeff was surprised, hurt and irritated by the sharp sarcasm. "You know, it is entirely possible for me to learn something positive from someone other than you."

"Not from him you don't," Phineas shouted. "Drake teaches you how not to act, what not to do out in the field. He's never done a good thing in his life!"

"So saving me was a bad thing?" His words struck Phineas as hard as a physical slap.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." They were quiet for a moment and then Jeff continued. "But something changed when Kabibe asked him to buy my freedom. Ahmed said Drake cried and mentioned something about a child being tortured for her father's politics… I don't know."

Phineas blinked in shock. "Machiavelli…"

"Huh?"

"Drake was his student, and when Machiavelli was arrested his entire household was taken. His secretary's daughter was about five or six years old and she was with Drake when he was taken. She kicked and screamed but Drake couldn't help her. Then she saw her father being dragged off and she bit the soldier on the arm and started attacking the men who held her dad. Apparently one of them backhanded her and she dropped like rag doll. The last Drake saw of her was a guard tying her up as she cried out for help. He never saw Rosalia again."

"Wow. How do you know all this anyway?"

Bogg glanced away uncomfortably. "I um, well, that's part of the 'why Bogg and Drake hate each other' story that I keep promising to tell you. Which I will, and soon. I hate to say it, but he really did have a heart once."

"So that's why Dante petitioned the Chief to spare my life?"

Phineas snorted. "Dante? No one's called him that since the Academy."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "That is his name, you know. I mean, he wasn't gracious about it or anything, but still he seemed to feel compelled to do it. And in the end instead of leaving me there with no hope of rescue, he apparently told you where to find me. He never would have done that before all this. I even talked to Ludwig about it and he said he's seen things like this before; that Uhuru has a way of changing people."

"Well Professor Jones," he winked at Jeff, "since you have shown me the error of my ways in believing Dra... er, Dante couldn't be a positive role model, what right lesson did you learn from the wrong person?"

He looked down at his hands before replying. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

An awkward silence followed as Phineas waited for Jeff to continue, which Bogg finally broke. "That's it?"

"Isn't that enough," Jeff retorted.

The look in the young man's eyes was warning enough for Bogg and he held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. It's enough, for now."

"I need some sleep. I'm going to bed."

Bogg watched silently as Jeff walked into the bedroom and closed the door hard enough to indicate he wanted to be left alone.

Jeff's ordeal took its toll which irritated him and just made matters worse. He was moody and withdrawn in the days following his rescue, and remained stubbornly silent during his daily meeting with Counselor Suarez. She was a patient woman and as strong willed as Jeff was, and eventually she cracked his resolve. It had been eight days since his return, and after an especially long session where Counselor Suarez got him to finally admit to his inner fears, Jeff went straight to his room and to bed.

Phineas was called into the counselor's office ten minutes after Jeff got home. He was surprised to find Garth and Curt already in the office awaiting his arrival. Counselor Suarez smiled at the trio as she perched on the corner of her massive oak desk.

"Gentlemen, Jeffrey had a breakthrough today; a very painful experience for him but one that was necessary if he ever had any hope of continuing on into the Academy."

If the look of indignant shock on Bogg's face surprised her she didn't show it and held up her hand to silence him.

"Mr. Bogg, you must have known that acceptance into the Academy was not guaranteed? Mr. Jones is subject to the same tests, evaluations and assessments that any other potential voyager is. Just because he's been traveling with you for the past five years in spite of my protestations-"

Phineas jumped to his feet. "Now hold on! What do you mean 'in spite of my protestations?' Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Voyager Bogg sit down," Garth bellowed. "One more outburst like that and you will feel my wrath as never before."

With great force of will, Phineas returned to his seat, never taking his eyes off Suarez.

"I won't patronize you, Mr. Bogg. As hard as truth is to hear, I will tell you my professional opinion about Jeffrey's readiness to become a Voyager." She glanced at Curt who nodded and she continued.

"While you may not value my opinion as a counselor, please understand that I am in fact a doctor, a title that I hold in seven different points in history. People prefer the title 'counselor' as it is less threatening, therefore I use it. So know that I am, in fact Dr. Amelia Suarez, MD, Ph. D, Th. D."

The doctor's dark eyes held Phineas' gaze, which he had softened slightly, and she gave him a genuine smile as he processed her last statement.

"That being said, when he became your 'ward,' I did not feel Mr. Jones should be voyaging at such a young age without any prior tutelage from us. I was however convinced to 'watch and learn' as Counselor Garth and the Director put it; I followed your progress with him on many voyages and decided that he felt safest and most secure with you."

"So," he said cautiously, "what was this big breakthrough that could have prevented him from ever becoming a Voyager?"

"That he is wanted and loved and will never be abandoned, and also truly understanding and believing that he is not responsible for his parents death."

"That's preposterous," Garth sputtered. "I told the boy myself that he bore no fault in what happened to his parents that day!"

Dr. Suarez reached behind her and picked up a file, idly flipping through it. "Did you look at the event as a whole, or did you review each individual family member's history on that day Sir? Because if you followed young Jeffrey's activities you would have seen him helping his dad put oil in the car and checking the coolant and brake fluid prior to leaving for their trip. It was his job to check fluid levels each time they stopped for fuel, and at their last stop he only checked the oil, not the coolant or brake fluid as he had been instructed."

Garth looked thoughtful as Phineas spoke. "So he believed that the accident was his fault because he didn't do his job."

"The cause of the accident was never discovered," the doctor continued, "though it was believed, and we know, that Mr. Jones fell asleep at the wheel. Yet young Jeffrey couldn't bear the knowledge that he didn't check the levels before they started out again and he told his father he had checked. He held that burden of guilt for all these years, until just this afternoon. And because of that, he still has issues with being accepted and unconditionally loved."

"No way," Phineas stood and faced the doctor. "He knows I love him like he was my own kid and that I would never abandon him!"

Dr. Suarez slid off her desk and approached the voyager. "This may come as a surprise to you, Mr. Bogg, but he lied. And before you get all belligerent on me I'll share why. He's seventeen years old, a man in many cultures and countries in any time zone, and yet you still look at him as the child you found yourself burdened with so many years ago. A child I daresay you didn't want."

Images flashed through Bogg's mind in an instant: catching the young boy in mid-air, landing in 1450 BC Egypt and telling him to 'get lost;' in 1917 France telling him, 'what's wrong here is you;' and then the horrible thing he said in 1903 on the beach at Kitty Hawk- "this is it, time to part our ways. And what's this 'father' business? What about your own father? If he's anything like me you probably did him in, too.' Even now the hateful words made him ill and brought tears to his eyes.

Her tone had been more harsh than she intended and she watched the man's face change from challenging anger to an expression of sick grief and deep sorrow. Before she could redeem herself, Curt walked over to Phineas and led him back to his chair.

"I think you've more than made your point, Amelia," Curt said with authority.

"Understood, Director Rogers. My apologies, Mr. Bogg."

"She's right," Phineas said. "I do still see him as a little kid who needs my protection, Jeff's said as much. But does he really still believe all those things I said to him when we first met?"

Dr. Suarez thought a moment before answering. "No, I don't think so but the memory and the meaning do still haunt him. Childhood memories shape the adult a person becomes and while words might be forgiven they may not be forgotten. Also you may have discussed his feelings about his parents death but you never validated them. If he said he felt responsible for the accident, you told him it wasn't his fault and he needed to believe that. He told me that he believed the other adults in his life knew the accident was his fault, which is why he felt his aunt and uncle didn't want him."

"That's an awful lot for anyone to carry around," Curt said. "So, how do we proceed from here doctor?"

"That is entirely up to Mr. Jones. He has asked for a day off and I have agreed to that. He has also asked that Mr. Bogg see me at least once."

"For what," Phineas asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"To help you let him grow up. Life is a balance of holding on, letting go, and knowing when to do which of the two Mr. Bogg. That is what you need to learn."

* * *

It was agreed that Phineas would not go back to the apartment so Jeff could have some space and time to himself. He wandered around VHQ for an hour or so before he finally found something to keep him occupied for a while- the diving pool. He spent the better part of the afternoon pushing himself to do harder and harder dives until he could barely pull himself out of the water. When Curt finally found him many hours later the sun was setting and Bogg was sitting in a lounge chair just staring at the water.

"You can go home now, you know," Curt said with a playful wink. "Jeff asked me to help find you since you obviously didn't take a comm for us to reach you."

"I just had a lot to think about," Bogg replied as he put his shoes on. "And diving seems to help. By the way, I'm starved. Is that little Italian place still around? The one by the Hall of Records?"

Curt picked up the small communicator, dialed a quick sequence of numbers and then spoke. "Hey Kristi, its Curt. Dinner for three tonight, the works. Got it?"

"Understood Director Rogers."

Phineas smiled as they started walking back to his apartment. "Power has its perks I guess."

The director shook his head. "Nah, just a direct line to the owner of Palladino's and a good appetite. C'mon, tonight we dine like kings and leave our troubles out in the cold!"

The food was better than Phineas remembered and the three men had a wonderful time telling stories, making jokes and simply having fun. By the time they got back home Jeff and Bogg were too tired to do anything other than go straight to sleep after an exhausting emotional day.

Jeff was the first one awake the next morning and he left the apartment as quietly as possible. He was waiting for Dr. Suarez in her office when she arrived and told her what he wanted to do.

"Are you sure you want to do this alone Jeffrey?"

"Yes ma'am."

She scrutinized him as she considered his request and finally agreed. Fifteen minutes later Curt walked in and handed Jeff an omni.

"Okay Jeff, here's the deal. This is preset to the specific date and time zone you requested. You have up to eight hours and if you haven't returned in the allotted time you will automatically be recalled. If you try to tinker with the omni to go anywhere else you will land back in VHQ and will be dealt with accordingly, are we clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Then take what you need and be back in eight hours or less. And good luck, son."

About an hour after Jeffrey left there was a pounding on her office door. Dr. Suarez got up and opened the door. "Hello Mr. Bogg. How may I help you?"

"Is Jeff with you?" He brushed past her and scanned the room

"No, he isn't, but don't worry, he's fine."

"Where is he?"

"Voyaging." Phineas turned around to face her and she held up her hands. "Mr. Bogg, if you think for one moment that I would put my patient's life in danger then I'm rather disappointed in you."

Phineas resisted the urge to punch the wall and swallowed his frustration. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before answering her. "I know you wouldn't, doc. I just want to make sure he feels safe and secure, ya know? I gotta protect him. It's just like when we started voyaging together and he'd talk about his parents' accident or have a bad dream; I mean, I know he's older now and can cope better, but…"

The counselor smiled, "Remember yesterday when I told you that life is a balance of holding on, letting go, and knowing when to do which of the two?"

Phineas nodded.

"Well, today is the day we start our first lesson: when to let go."


	11. Letting Go

Chapter 11

**December 15, 1940**

**Forrest Lawn Memorial Park, Glendale, California**

Jeff sat on the stone bench and watched the man place the roses on the grave with reverence. He had hoped to spend this time alone at Georgia's grave but had been interrupted by the one person he prayed that he wouldn't see: Coach Cady. There were still six hours before he had to return to VHQ and he wanted to make every second count. A gust of cold December wind smacked him in the back and he hunkered down further into his peacoat.

Though slightly irritated by the intrusion, Jeff watched with some interest as the man sat by the flat grave marker and pulled out a sketch book from under his coat. There had been little change in his appearance in the twelve or so years since Jeff last saw him and the familiarity was an odd comfort to him. The bench was near enough, even in the weak sunlight that managed to filter through the clouds, for Jeff to see that something was already drawn on the paper and that Fred was continuing the picture. He was a true artist, and his hand flew all over the paper as his internal vision came to life with simple carbon and wood pulp.

He drew for about fifteen minutes before he seemed satisfied and stood up to stretch. It was then that he noticed Jeff sitting on the bench several yards away. He glanced down at the grave, made the sign of the cross, turned around and tipped his hat to the young man on the bench a few plots away, who copied the gesture. "I see that rainstorm is moving in," Fred said loudly. "We're liable to get wet if we stay too much longer."

Jeff made an agreeing noise and shifted uncomfortably.

The coach wandered a bit closer to the bench so he wouldn't have to shout. "Who ya here to visit, son?"

There wasn't any point in trying to hide his intentions, so he sighed into the brown and red plaid scarf that covered his mouth and then pulled it down. "Georgia Coleman."

"I thought I was the only one who still came to see my 'lil bearcat," Fred said with a warmth that put Jeff both at ease and made him more nervous. "By the way, I'm her co- well, I _was_ her coach, Fred Cady." He pulled his gloved hand out of his coat pocket and extended it to Jeff.

"I'm Jeff. Jeff Jones."

Fred smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. How'd you know Georgia?"

"I um, we..." Jeff licked his lips, "I met her at the LA Athletic Club once after a competition. She was amazing to watch. Always showin' up the boys, and I liked that. She had moxie."

Fred laughed loudly and slapped Jeffrey on the back. "Son, you hit the nail on the head! That girl of mine dove better than the boys and they all knew it. See this," he held out the drawing for Jeff to see, "this is Georgia at her best."

Jeff looked at the pencil sketch and felt his throat tighten; it was incredible. Georgia was performing a swan dive from the three meter board and she was beautifully drawn. It looked more like a black and white photograph than a pencil drawing, and all the important details were sharp while more minor ones were blurred. It was her face that was the most amazing thing; Fred had captured the joy in her eyes but also that amazing focus and determination she was known for. She had a Mona Lisa-type smile and she looked as if she would literally fly off the page.

Fred could read the look on the young man's face and smiled. "Georgia was a natural, she was one of a kind. She was my sunshine..."

He stopped suddenly and turned away from Jeff who understood the man's distress all too well. He had hoped that he wouldn't see Coach Cady today, but now he was actually glad the man was there. It helped him to know that Georgia was deeply loved till the end of her life and beyond.

"She was a ray of sunshine for this entire nation, Coach. Georgia had that spark of life and a vibrant spirit that shined no matter what happened to her. You couldn't help but fall in love with her, ya know? I wasn't as close to her as you were sir, but I promise you her passing has left its mark on my heart. It wasn't fair that she had to suffer like that and be taken away from us so young. She was one of a kind, and I miss her."

"There's hope for your generation yet," Fred said gruffly as he wiped his eyes. "Tell ya what, son. I'll leave the two of you alone, but promise to meet me at Mitzi's Coffee shop about a block from here and I'll tell you some stories about her diving." Jeff's look of shock put a smile on Fred's face.

"I appreciate that sir but, why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you sit and share stories about Georgia with a complete stranger?"

Fred clapped his large hand on Jeff's shoulder, "Because she's been gone for three months and I'm a lonely old man who misses a special young lady, and you are the first admirer of hers that's come to spend time with her since the funeral. If she was that special to you son, then you deserve to hear about her from someone who knew her best. I've got a few errands to run before this storm hits and then I'll head over to Mitzi's. Just take your time, I'll be there most of the evening finishing up this picture for you."

Jeff blinked in shock, "For me? No sir, Coach Cady. I couldn't possibly take-"

"It's poor manners to argue with your elders, Mr. Jones. I'll give my drawings to whomever I want for no other reason than it makes you happy. Now don't forget, Mitzi's as soon as you're done here. Just tell them you're lookin' for Coach and they'll send you right to me. I've apparently become a fixture there." Fred gave him a wink then turned and walked back up the hill to the main road.

Alone once more, Jeff walked back to Georgia's grave and sat on the cold grass beside the tombstone. The wind was gusting in waves and getting colder by the minute. The New York part of his brain scoffed at the thought of calling this 'cold' or a real 'storm,' but thirty-eight degrees with steady wind and the setting sun stuck behind storm clouds was most certainly cold. He wrapped his scarf around his face once more and picked idly at a blade of grass.

Before Fred had arrived, he had paced around the grave, sat beside it and even picked weeds away from the marker, all without saying a word. He'd spent two hours trying to figure out why he was here and what he wanted to do. And now he knew.

"Georgia, I uh," he cleared his throat, "I miss you. It's not fair that you had to die so young, and I wasn't fair to you back in 1928. I left you without saying why or telling you that I... well, that I love you." His heart pounded and he felt his eyes begin to water and he took a breath. Speaking those words out loud made him face the truth and it hurt.

"Here I am two weeks after I left you, seventeen and still in love with a sixteen year old, except it's been twelve years since you last saw me and you died three months ago at the age of twenty-eight..." He growled and glared up at the sky. "Time travel sucks. Why do you do this to us, huh? Why? It's not fair, do you hear me?"

A distant roll of thunder was his immediate reply and he gave a resigned laugh. "Yes sir, Counselor Garth sir. I'll stop whining." Jeff sighed and looked down at the grave marker, refocusing his thoughts. "I should really tell you why I left and what happened while I was there. You deserve that much. You see, I'm what you might call a Time Traveler..."

Two hours later Jeff was emotionally drained and bitterly cold. He'd shared everything with her, from how he met Phineas through this last encounter with Drake, and he held nothing back. And even though he was only speaking to a grave, he could feel Georgia's presence somehow and it was liberating to actually 'talk to' someone about what he considered his deep, dark secret life.

He exhaled loudly and brushed away the tears. "I hope you were really happy with your life and I'm glad you didn't have to suffer missing me; I'm going through it for both of us." He looked at his watch and then at the darkening sky and shivered as the wind gusted through the trees. There were still about four hours left for him to be here, and as much as he wanted to stay at her graveside, the weather wouldn't allow it. It was starting to rain.

Jeff caressed the edge of the grave marker as the rain made small dots on the carved stone. "I know you wouldn't want me to catch a cold out here so I'm going to head over to that coffee shop and visit with Coach for a while. I wish I could stay though," he said as he shoved his hands deep into his peacoat. A familiar object pushed against his knuckles and then it hit him. He could stay with her, or at least a part of him could.

He dug a small hole in the damp earth next to the grave marker about three inches deep, pulled Kabibe's white bead and red cloth out of his pocket and after one last look, dropped them into the hole.

"These represent what my life was worth to one little native girl. It was all the money she had and she gave it to my enemy and asked him to save me." He paused a moment before continuing, "Nobody really understands what these mean to me, so I'm leaving them here with you, because I know you would understand. You would have liked Kabibe, and I like to think she grew up to be just like you."

The rain was coming down more steadily now and Jeff made sure the dirt was packed down hard before finally standing up. His muscles protested the movement and he stretched out trying to get the blood flowing again. A flash of lightning crackled through the sky followed quickly by booming bass of thunder as Jeff looked at Georgia's grave one more time.

"Good bye, Georgia, and thanks for everything."

He made his way down the small hill toward the entrance of the memorial park and could just see the blinking sign that read 'Mitzi's' beyond the first traffic light. In a few short minutes he would be warming up with a hot cup of coffee with an old friend who didn't even know him, telling him stories about the girl he loved, and he smiled, feeling a sense of release and a happiness that he didn't understand. And he didn't care.

-0-

_**VHQ**_

The difference in Jeff when he returned surprised even Dr. Suarez, and she was glad to see the change. He had returned forty-five minutes before his deadline and asked her to call Phineas in so he would only have to share the story once. It took him about an hour to share the experience, and the adults were speechless when he showed them the picture the coach had given Jeff.

"I didn't realize he could draw that well," Phineas said as he studied the drawing. "He captured her perfectly."

"Jeffrey, how have the past eight hours changed you?"

The teen looked at his counselor and thought for a moment before answering. "I feel…free. Leaving the tribal money at Georgia's grave felt like I was finally letting go of … or releasing, oh I don't know. Like I've been carrying around this big burden or secret, and now it's almost gone."

"Almost gone?"

"Yeah. I know there's more stuff I've gotta work through, but I feel like I got rid of a lot of crap that was pulling me down. So it's not all gone, just mostly."

Dr. Suarez nodded, "I see. And you, Phineas? How has this experience changed you?"

"Oh, well I, uh…" he gave a nervous chuckle. "Which part? The one where I thought I'd lost him forever and was ready to kill Drake with my bare hands as slowly as possible, the part where he came home and I couldn't stand to see the pain he was in and still wanted to kill Drake, or today when I woke up and Jeff was gone and even after knowing he was safe I still had a pit in my stomach until I knew he was back home?"

"D, all of the above."

Phineas heaved a sigh and looked over at Jeff. "You've been my kid for five years, but you're not a little kid. I never thought I'd be a parent, and I certainly didn't want to inherit a kid going into puberty." Jeff pulled a face at him. "I had a lot of learning and growing to do, and I did it, but I just kinda figured out today that our relationship is five years old, and so my 'internal parent' wants to protect you like you were a five year old child. You became a young man so fast… I had more adapting to do than I think you did at times."

Jeff was about to speak but caught the stern look in the doctor's eye and stayed quiet. Phineas stared at his hands for a moment before continuing.

"The Doc says I have to learn to let you be your own person; that I don't have to protect you so much. That, and I still have some issues to resolve where Drake is concerned."

"I'm impressed," the counselor said with a genuine smile. "I'm very impressed, actually. So impressed, in fact that I think you should take some time to regroup and we will have another meeting next week. In the meantime," she stood and the men followed suit, "doctor's orders are to go relax and have some fun. Before you know it, Jeff will be starting his first semester of Academy, and Phineas will be readjusting to voyaging on his own. I want you both well rested for it."

The shocked silence made her smile as they processed what she said. It was Jeff who finally spoke first.

"But, the semester starts in about _two weeks_. I thought you said-"

"I know what I said before, Jeffrey. But with what the two of you just shared with me I am more than willing to allow you to start your official education. It's about time you acted like a teenager, going to Academy, hanging out with friends… you need _that_ just as much as anything else right now. And you," she pointed at Phineas, "are needed out in the field. You've proven yourselves ready for this. Now off with the both of you before I change my mind."

* * *

_**-Six months later-**_

"Mister Jones," Professor Cortland intoned, "Please define the word antidisestablishmentarianism."

"You've got this," Dalisa Mims whispered and gave Jeff a thumbs up and a wink as he stood up and walked to the front of the class.

He hated oral quizzes with a passion and took a moment to compose himself before speaking. Professor Cortland looked over her cat-eye spectacles at him with one eyebrow raised and he knew one of her famous caustic statements was about to be heard. But he was ready for her.

"Antidisestablishmentarianism. Establish means to set up, put in place or institute and is originally from the Latin _stare, _meaning to stand. **Dis**-establish means to end the established status of a body- in particular a church- given such status by law. For example The Church of England."

The class couldn't believe what they were hearing. Succeed or fail, Jeffrey Jones was about to become a legend.

"Disestablish**-ment** refers to the separation of church and state," he turned to her then, gesturing with his right index finger for emphasis, "in this context, the political movement of the 1860's in Britian."

Now he was pacing the width of the class, gaining confidence from the positive energy his fellow underclassmen were exuding.

"So **anti**-disestablishment would be opposition to disestablishment, correct? Antidisestablishment-**ary** means of or pertaining to opposition to disestablishment, and an antidisestablishmentari**-an** would be an opponent of disestablishment."

The room was perfectly silent and still, but the barely contained energy was a physical presence in the room that nearly suffocated everyone with the intensity of its desire for release. And it's exactly what Jeff wanted. He stood front and center, put his hands behind his back, and recited the final definition.

"Antidisestablishmentarianism- the movement, ideology or a political position that originated in 19th-century Britain in opposition to proposals for the disestablishment of the Church of England; the opposition of the disestablishment in the 1860's of the Anglican Church's status as the state church of England, Ireland, and Wales."

Jeff locked eyes with his professor and waited for her response.

After a very long pause Professor Cortland moved from behind her desk and stood beside Jeff. "Only one other student, a second year I might add, has ever succeeded in this challenge and I thought it would never happen again, or would be achieved by a first year. Not many people take words seriously anymore and I must say you defined your word with flair and confidence." She reached over and picked up her grade book from her desk. "As per the class syllabus, 'if a student or students can present to the class a flawless example of learning comprehension and full understanding of word definition to the satisfaction of the professor, then he or she shall receive the top mark for the quiz or test, the rest of the class shall receive passing grades and class shall be dismissed for the day and for the following session.' Congratulations Trainee Jeffrey Jones. Class dismissed."

The glass nearly came out of the window panes at the thunderous cheer from the underclassmen. They poured out of the classroom as if they were grade schoolers being let out for the summer, and the professor shook her head with a wry smile. No matter how young or old a student may be, there was always child-like joy at surprising the teacher and winning her favor. It had been too long since her students had that experience, and she was glad they'd finally done it.

She picked up her grade book and followed the sound of victory out the door and down the hall.

As the door clicked shut a voice broke the stillness. "Well, that _was_ impressive, wasn't it?"

A flash of flame illuminated the end of a Cuban cigar as the owner lit the tip and drew in a long breath before blowing smoke into the room.

"My protégé did quite well today. He has my drive and thirst for knowledge."

Drake paced between the rows of desks and smiled. "I never would have thought that who he is today is a direct result of my intervention. But just look at the boy! Top marks in most of his classes and the need to prove that he is _not_ Phineas Bogg. I'd say that's a step in the right direction."

He glanced around the room and remembered the day that he met the syllabus challenge all those years ago and smiled. "Just watch your new star pupil, Prof. Cortland, and don't be surprised when you see me in him. I shall watch and mold him from afar, and that shall be far more disturbing to Phineas Bogg than anything else I could conceive."

As the bell tower chimed the quarter hour, Drake pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on Jeff's desk before vanishing from the room. When the English class resumed the following Monday, everyone noticed the faint smell of stale smoke but only Jeff understood what it meant.

He picked up the paper from his desk and felt some fear as he read the words written in that familiar script.

'Until we meet again.'

Dalisa walked over to him and he crumpled the paper quickly, but she snatched it away. "You should know better than to hide things from your best friend. Who's this fro... oh. Oh." She glanced up at him nervously. "You should tell the prof, Jeff."

"Nope." He took the paper back from her, wadded it into a tight ball and tossed it into the trashcan in the back of the room. "Ha! Magic does it again. Nothin' but net."

"But Jeffrey..."

He shook his head, "No. And I'll tell you why." He took his seat as more students filed in. "Because it doesn't matter. I'll always be afraid of what he might do, but I always have been. He didn't tell me anything I don't already know, so why bother. He's always going to be after me and Bogg, so that note doesn't change a thing. And if I keep holding on to the anger and hatred that got me into trouble with him before, then I perpetuate the cycle and he wins. But not this time."

Prof. Cortland rang the delicate blue and white china bell that sat on her desk and the last few students scuttled off to their desks.

Jeff reached over to Dalisa and put his hand over hers, giving it a squeeze. "Just let it go, D. Let it go."

THE END

* * *

Thank you everyone who stuck with me for the THREE YEARS it took to complete from posting the first chapter. It's taken me 5 years total to write this, and I did a lot of growing as a writer because of it. First of all I want to thank Leanne (SpencertheKat) for challenging me to write this story. We had been chatting online back in 2008 talking about Voyagers! and stories and before I knew it, there were rules and points and challenges-within-the-challenge and I was off and running!

Anywho, I thought you might like to know what my rules were and see how well I succeeded. :)

1) It had to involve Polio in some way. Originally supposed to be a main plot point, but due to inaccurate info online (age Georgia Colman contracted the disease), polio had to take a back seat.

2) Drake needed to at least make an appearance (didn't have to be 'the star'), he needed be more like what we saw hi in the show, AND there needed to be some form of redemption for him somehow.

3) The story needed to be CANON, and I wasn't allowed to use any OC's I'd previously created. However I could use my OC Curt Rogers who ran Omni Control. This proved to be difficult in that I was making Jeff 17 instead of 12 or 13, and we have NO canon for that. So I got to use creative license with Leanne's permission. And I kinda fudged it a bit by adding Dr. Suarez, but I think she might let that slide...? I hope!

4) It needed to be a minimum of 3 chapters long. Psh. Piece of cake.

As an added challenge, her wonderful husband Mark told her (jokingly) that I had to use words like Bunsen burner, Mt. Kilimanjaro, saran wrap, Onomatopoeia, wookie, Antidisestablishmentarianism and triple A batteries. I think that using four of the seven words, even making one a major plot point, qualifies as a smashing success, don't you? :D

As I look back on the early chapters and drafts, I realize how much this story has changed, and really why it took 5 years to write. I haven't had a 'writing assignment' in over 20 years, and everything I'd written since 2005 had come from my own ideas. So this felt a lot like homework to me, which was a challenge in and of itself. I had to work at ideas instead of just letting them flow, and things changed SO MUCH from my original ideas to now... Like the story was supposed to center around Georgia and Jeff and Georgia's polio. That was great until I learned that she didn't contract it until her mid 20's and I needed her to be 16!

But I wouldn't change this challenge or the experience for anything. I'm very proud of what I created and all the study and labor was well worth it. So THANK YOU LEANNE AND MARK. I hope you like your story.


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